North! To Stalag 13
by WenonaWolf
Summary: What do totem poles, colorful costumes, a complicated list of spy work, the Gestapo and Colonel Hogan have in common? No knew the answer until that fateful day when a new prisoner came to camp, sparking one the most unusually exotic capers of all time. Hogan and his gang had too much work to do and too little time or resources to get it done. Time for some Last Frontier creativity!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: In case you're wondering, yes, this is an excuse to brag on my favorite out of all fifty states, Alaska. On a historical note, I feel it necessary to explain the animosity displayed toward people of Japanese ethnicity in this story. After the bombing of Pearly Harbor, the American people went so far as to arrest Japanese-American citizens (called Issei if they were immigrants or Nisei if they were born on US soil) and place them in internment camps. Never underestimate the power of fear._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters. I did make up Eddie and Angel though._

 ** _NORTH! TO STALAG 13_**

"He looks like a Jap to me." Carter said, an out-of-place frown on his face. The potato he had been peeling was lying forgotten on his lap as he watched the new prisoner being unloaded. Colonel Hogan, Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau were also standing or sitting around, observing the procedure in the manner of men who had nothing better to do.

"Take it easy Carter." Kinch said mildly. "The Japs aren't all bad. We've even got a few of them in our army." He knew as well as anyone that after Pearl Harbor, American feeling towards people of Japanese descent had cooled considerably, even towards Japanese-Americans. Thus Carter's unusual animosity.

"It still doesn't hurt to be careful." Colonel Hogan said. He was leaning against the barracks wall, hat pulled half way over his eyes to block out the bright, late morning sun. "When can we get in touch with London again, Kinch?"

"Radio silence is supposed to go on for another five days." The sergeant replied. He had a fair idea of where the question had come from. "We can check him out then."

"Right." Hogan straightened slightly. "Until then, he stays in the dark. Got it?"

There was a chorus of assent to the orders.

"You gotta be careful around those Japs." Carter took on his 'interrogator' look, which on him was completely laughable. Especially since his methods of determining if someone was friend or foe consisted of questions from the world of American sports and cinema.

"What could be so bad about them?" LeBeau wanted to know. His world in France was far removed from Japanese influence.

"Well, they've got some funny ideas about loyalty, that's for sure." Carter answered. "I've heard they would kill themselves before they get captured."

"This one seems pretty alive." Hogan noted in amusement.

"And they eat fish and fish eggs." Carter continued, completely unabashed.

"The Frenchies eat snails." Newkirk interrupted. "Ya never complained about them." He shot a look at his little French companion, daring him to answer.

"Escargot is a delicacy!" No one could ever say that LeBeau didn't rise to a challenge. "It is far too fine for your English tastes."

Newkirk would have made a reply to spur the argument along, but Carter wasn't finished. "And there's more." Carter's eyes narrowed. "They have those…. those… sneaky guys in black that carry long swords and ambush people." He had to stop as he realized he didn't remember what they were called.

"I hardly think that the Germans would send any ninjas into a prisoner of war camp on purpose, Carter." Kinch pointed out.

"Still, you never know." Carter persisted.

"At any rate," The colonel broke in. "I think I've given Klink enough time." He zipped up his jacket and straightened his hat. "It's time for the Stalag 13 welcoming party."

A jump, skip and a hop across the compound later, Hogan was standing in the Klink's office yawning his way through the last few sentences of Klink's 'toughest POW camp in all of Germany' speech while sizing up the new man. He wore an American uniform with a sergeant's bars and still stood in stoic military attention. He was somewhat shorter than average, with a shock of black hair, tan skin, a peculiarly oval shaped face and dark eyes that were natural squinted. The expression on his face was completely unreadable.

"Now Sergeant…" Klink had to check his papers for the man's name. "White. Just for our meticulous camp records, where was the airbase you were stationed at?"

"Name, ranks and serial number. No more than that soldier." Hogan interrupted.

"White, Edward H. Sergeant. Serial number…" White only got that far before Klink interrupted him.

"I know what your serial number is." He growled. The effect of Klink's growl tended more toward hilarity than fear, but White showed neither. "And Hogan, I'll thank you to keep out of this."

"According to the Geneva Prisoner of War Convention, I'm entitled to be present when a prisoner is questioned." The sentence rattled off Hogan's lips almost before he thought about it. Someday he was going to have to actually read the Geneva Prisoner of War Convention.

"But you are not entitled to disturb my interrogation." Klink shot back.

"An interrogation? Is that what that was?" Hogan went from demanding to fascinated in nanoseconds. "Wow Kommandant. I thought that question was part of the introduction to Stalag 13. I mean, you slip it in every time. That's the sure sign of a masterful interrogator."

"Thank you Hogan." Klink looked pleased and he had completely forgotten his original question.

"You know, I'd love to pick up some pointers, but I'm afraid we really must be going." Hogan began backing the prisoner towards the door, talking all the way. "It's been a pleasure to listen to you at your work, Commandant. Like hearing a musician at his performance. I do hope you'll allow me to stop in again?" By now, White was in the outer office and Hogan was standing in the doorway.

"Why yes. Of course." Klink was on flattery overload, hardly aware of what was happening.

"Oh thank you sir." Hogan saluted and slammed the door shut.

Klink sat at his desk for a full minute, carefully expanding his ego on Colonel Hogan's comments. It wasn't until he actually looked down at his desk and saw the papers that he remembered that he was supposed to be interrogating a new prisoner. "HOGAN!"

The American colonel only caught a faint echo of the yell as he was already stepping outside the office with the prisoner. "Alright Sergeant, welcome to Stalag 13." He said, turning to the short man beside him.

"Thank you sir." White answered. His voice bore a slight accent that Hogan had never heard before and couldn't trace.

"You'll be in hut number three." Colonel Hogan continued, pointing in the barrack's direction. "The guys will fill you in as to how things work around here."

"Yes sir, colonel." Eddie White wasn't sure how to handle this unusual camp, so he stuck to military protocol.

Hogan noticed. "At ease White. We don't stand on rank around here."

"Right sir." White couldn't quite keep that last 'sir' from slipping out.

Hogan didn't have time to address it as he spotted a familiar truck coming in the front gate. It wasn't time for a dog change yet and that could only mean one thing. "I'm sure you can find your own way to the barracks, White." He told the new man distractedly. "I have some business to attend to." With that, Hogan strode back across the compound to where his men were also watching the dog being unloaded from Oscar's truck.

"The dogs are being changed early this week." Kinch noted, frowning ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I noticed." Hogan stared in the direction of the pen. "I'm going to talk to him. Cover me if Shultz comes along."

"Right." Newkirk answered for all of them, frowning in concentration and puzzlement.

Colonel Hogan walked across the compound boldly, looking as if he had somewhere to go and something to do. His eyes were constantly scanning the camp, looking for potential problems. He reached his goal and leaned casually against the side of the truck. "Mornin' Oskar? How're the dogs?"

"The black one has been a little nippy." The German veterinarian grunted without hesitation.

Hogan perked up at the coded sentence. The dog handler had a message for him. "Ok, what's going on?" The colonel asked in a low voice.

"Can't talk." Oscar grunted again, much lower pitched this time. He crammed a piece of paper in Hogan's hand and went about his business.

Hogan was puzzled, but he knew that the pressure must really be on if Oscar couldn't talk to him. The American turned and walked nonchalantly back to the barracks, his men following him inside. Questions exploded once they had reached the semi-privacy of Hogan's quarters.

"What was that all about?"

"Didn't he have something for us, colonel?"

"What does the paper say?"

Colonel Hogan held up a hand for silence. "Give me a break guys. I only just got the message." The noise level dropped considerably. Hogan scanned the paper quickly, his expression going from concern, to astonishment, to anger. "I can't believe this." He said finally, smacking the paper.

"What is it?" Carter asked.

"It's a list of jobs the Underground needs for us to do. As soon as possible no less!" Hogan sounded exasperated. He handed the paper to Kinch.

"Why can't they do the work themselves?" LeBeau questioned, looking slightly indignant.

"A few of the key members of the Underground are under tight Gestapo surveillance." Hogan answered. "Everyone is lying low until the heat's off."

"So they expect us to go out and risk our necks?" Newkirk didn't sound any happier than LeBeau or Colonel Hogan. "We can't exactly just walk out the front gates, you know."

"What kind of jobs?" Of course, it was Carter wanting to know.

"Blowing up a bridge near Hammelburg. Destroying a supply station near the Heidelberg railway. And stealing some top secret stuff from Gestapo headquarters. Plus, they want us to meet them in the forest outside the wire to confirm." Kinch read off the paper. He looked up sharply. "Those targets are spread out over twenty-five miles. How do they expect us to cover that kind of distance?"

"If it had just been the first two, I might have been ok with it. But sneak into Gestapo headquarters? They think we can do it just like that, huh." Hogan scowled and crossed his arms. "Sometimes I think they take us for granted."

"Well, that's what you get for being the best at what you do." Carter pointed out, his face the picture of innocuous common sense. It earned him glares from all over the room.

"We've got three missions to accomplish, radio silence from London, and no help from the Underground." Hogan sighed. "Plus, there's a new man in camp who may or may not be a Japanese spy. I'm not sure we can take this one."

"So what are we going to do, mon colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"Well, there's one thing we can work on. Carter, Newkirk, start pumping the new man right away. His name is Edward White. Anything you can get on him will be helpful. Kinch and LeBeau, help out where you can. Meet me downstairs an hour after lunch." Hogan ordered.

"Right colonel." Newkirk said as he started for the door.

"Yes sir." Carter said simultaneously.

"And Carter," the colonel added as an afterthought. "Don't mention anything about being Japanese or ninjas."

"Ok, but if he pulls out one of those swords, I'm not taking any chances, boy let me tell you!" Carter said passionately.

Newkirk rolled his eyes and shoved his friend out the door.

At exactly thirteen-hundred hours, the group was again assembled, this time in the tunnel. By habit, they congregated in the radio room, even though the machine was silent. They were discussing what they had learned about the new prisoner.

"We put 'im through every trick we could think of." Newkirk was saying. "If 'e's not American, he's ruddy good at pretending to be."

"He said he lived in California when he was drafted." Carter added. "Lots of Japanese people live in California, you know." He was determined to stick by his theory.

"I know Carter." Hogan stared at his explosives expert.

"He doesn't speak German." LeBeau put in. "Or French." He made a face. To the dedicated Frenchman, anyone who didn't speak French was grossly undereducated.

"We even tried the spilling-hot-coffee test." Carter took up the report again.

"And?" Colonel Hogan waited.

"He said something in a different language alright." Carter answered triumphantly.

"But he said it quietly and none of us knew what kind of language it was." Kinch was quick to deflate that argument.

"Kinch, you're good with languages. Could it have been Japanese?" Hogan asked.

"Colonel, I can speak English, American, German, and a little French, but I wouldn't know Japanese if it hit me on the head." Kinch answered with a wry smile.

"I still say he's a Jap." Carter said stubbornly.

"Who's a Jap?" A voice came from the tunnel.

The men turned to find Angel entering the room, carrying a full pack on her back. She gave them all a broad grin as they greeted her with enthusiasm.

"What brings you to our happy little POW camp?" Hogan asked, leaning forward on the table.

"Supply delivery." Angel answered cheerfully. "I wasn't doing anything today and I figured I might as well bring in that load of stuff you asked for."

"Service is getting better these days." Hogan observed with a smile.

"Yup." Angel opened the back-pack and began pulling things out. "I've got needles and thread for Newkirk. Timers for Carter. Spare machinery parts for Kinch. And even some spices for LeBeau." She handed out each item as she was inventorying.

"Hey, that's great!" LeBeau said happily as he looked at the cooking supplies, his voice rising an octave in his enthusiasm.

"Plus a few other assorted goodies." Angel finished. She looked up in bewilderment. "Why does Olsen need an earring?"

"We don't ask." Hogan said, completely straight-faced.

"How come you're out and about?" Kinch directed the question at Angel. "I thought the Underground is in lock-down."

"In the city they are." Angel explained. "But no one pays attention to our little farm tucked away in the country. And since there are more soldiers in the cities, there are less patrols from me to avoid."

"Sneaky little scamp that you are." Newkirk teased her.

"Exactly." Angel gave a short, theatrical bow. "Anyway, not to be redundant or anything, but who's a Jap?"

"A new prisoner." Kinch answered. "We don't know whose side he's on."

"Yeah?" Angel looked intrigued. "What's he like?"

"Real quiet, from what I can tell. Keeps to himself." Kinch told her.

"Yeah, and he speaks another language and he talks kinda funny." Carter finished. "Some of the guys don't like to hang around him because he looks like a Japanese."

"That's no reason to avoid him." Kinch said sharply, drilling Carter with a look. "Just 'cause he's different doesn't mean he's not just as good as the next guy."

The tech sergeant wilted under Kinch's dark gaze. Coming from the Negro radioman, who understood what it was like to be scorned because of racial prejudice, that really was a rebuke. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Carter mumbled.

Kinch's face softened. "It's ok."

"I think you're both right." Angel interrupted. "I've met Japanese people in Alaska who were so loyal to their homeland that they wouldn't think twice about turning spy against America. On the other hand, there's some pretty great Japs fighting in our army. You sure can't beat 'em for dedication, one way or the other."

"Wait a minute." A few key words had caught Colonel Hogan's attention. "You actually know some Japanese people?"

Angel shrugged. "Well yeah. Alaska is closer to Japan than any other part of the US. We get Japanese fishing trawlers on the coasts sometimes."

"If you heard someone speaking Japanese, could you understand them?" Hogan continued, eyeing the girl critically.

"Um, no." Angel answered promptly. "I haven't had contact with _that_ many Japs. And Japanese is an incredibly complex language."

"But you would recognize a Japanese person on sight?" The colonel persisted. "And maybe recognize a few Japanese words?"

Angel considered for a moment. "Yeah, I might be able to." She shrugged. "But my opinion is far less than professional."

"Right now, it's all we've got." Hogan said. "Alright, here's what we'll do…"


	2. That's No Jap!

Within an hour, Angel was safely stashed on a bunk in Barracks Two. Slouched against the wall, her hair tucked under a cap, and her nose in a book, she looked just like any other POW. The men ignored her for the most part, except for the one or two that glanced at her once in a while. She caught their eyes and stuck her tongue out, earning a few smirks. The door banged open and Newkirk entered, followed by Eddie White. They stopped in front of Colonel Hogan, who was standing by the table.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" White was the first to speak.

Angel jerked a little at the sight of him and at the sound of his voice. Here was something she had certainly not expected to see. It took all of her control not to blow her cover. Japanese indeed. Ha.

"Yeah, just wanted to make sure you're getting on alright." Hogan was answering White's question. "Need anything?"

"No sir." White answered. He didn't feel it necessary to say any more than that.

"You always this talkative?" Kinch asked in amusement his eyes still focused on the card game he was playing with Carter. He smacked a few cards onto the table.

White shrugged. "I guess it's my upbringing."

" _Well, it makes a little more sense how Carter could be so bound and determined that this man is Japanese."_ Angel shifted slightly. " _Quiet, respectful… and his appearances might pass for a Jap, if you didn't know what you were talking about."_

"Am I dismissed then?" White directed this question at Hogan.

"Yeah. Sure." The colonel answered. "Unless you want to stay for the card game. Which I wouldn't recommend if you're short on funds." He snagged Newkirk's arm as the Englander sat down, giving it a little shake and causing a few cards to fall out.

Newkirk adopted the expression of a small boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "Me luck 'as been just awful, so I figured to boost it a bit. What's wrong with that?"

One eyebrow soared on Kinch's dark forehead and he tilted his head back to give Newkirk a doubtful, questioning look.

"If it's alright, I'll just head back to my barracks." White said, moving towards the door.

"See you later White." Hogan said as the man exited.

As soon as the coast was clear, Angel sprang out of the bed, cracking her head against the frame of the upper bunk in her haste. "Ow. Guys, how in the world could you think he was a Jap?" She asked, rubbing her head.

Carter looked speechless, but he wasn't. "You mean he's not?"

"Goodness no!" Angel answered emphatically. "Unless I miss my guess, that man is at least half Native Alaskan, if not full blooded."

The silenced in the barracks was thunderous. A moment later, it was just thunderous as everyone tried to ask questions at once.

"Ok, hold it. Hold it!" Hogan raised his hands for silence and the clamor died down. "Angel, what makes you say that?"

"Well, his looks for one think. Alaskan Indians have a unique physical appearance. His accent for another. And his manner. He acts like a lot of the people I grew up with in Alaska." Angel finished.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Hogan looked closely at the girl.

"I can't be totally sure. Anyway, there's always a possibility the Germans are using him for a spy." Angel paused and a grin played across her face. "Although, I can't imagine Burkhalter or any of them knowing enough about Alaska to copy the Native culture that well."

"You're probably right there." Kinch agreed.

"Yeah, and Klink wouldn't know an Indian if one scalped him." Hogan grinned.

"Oh, I don't think the ones that far north would do that." Carter spoke up.

"Alaskans adapt, Carter." A gleam entered Angel's eyes. "We do whatever we have to."

"I hardly think Klink's scalp is worth taking anyway." LeBeau said, frowning.

"You be laughed right out of the tipi if you ever brought the Bald Eagle's 'air back." Newkirk let loose a smug grin.

"What hair?" Kinch joined in, his mustache twitching as he held back a smile.

"Can we get back to the point?" Hogan asked with sarcastic politeness. He wrapped his arms around himself and took on his thinking expression. "We've got to make sure White is one of us."

"We can safely assume that if he's from Alaska, he's probably not a German plant, right?" Angel asked.

"Right."

"So why not just ask him?" Carter piped up again.

"Carter." Hogan shot him a glare. "That has no flair. No Stalag 13 style. No drama. It just isn't like us."

"Besides, he could lie to us." Kinch added. "And we wouldn't know the difference."

"That too." Hogan consented. "Angel, you could tell if he was telling lies about being from up north, right?"

"I think I should be insulted." Angel scowled. "I spent my whole life in that land. Love it like it was part of me. And I know its people. Of course I could tell if White was lying."

A slow smile spread across the colonel's face and his eyes glittered. "I think I've got an even better idea."

Sergeant Edward White had no idea what hit him. One minute he was walking past the barracks door, the next, two pairs of strong hands had grabbed him, covered his mouth, and yanked him inside. The door slammed shut before he knew what was happening and the room was pitch black. He could hear scuffling and knew that there were several people in the room. The hand was removed from his mouth.

At the exact same time, a voice snapped out a sentence in a foreign, yet familiar language. "Vada inlan dit?"

"I don't speak the language of the Dena'ina." White said coolly, an automatic response to the words.

"Ok, what tribe are you from?" Angel was trying to keep her voice in a deeper pitch, but is wasn't easy. Especially after White's response to her test. It was almost as good as if he had understood her words. This man really was from her homeland.

"I'm Tlingit." White relied. "I don't suppose you speak my own people's talk?"

"No, sorry." Angel allowed her voice to come back to normal. "It's ok guys. He's good."

The lights came on and White blinked in the sudden brightness. He looked around to find Hogan, Kinch, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau standing around him. A movement to his left caused him to turn and stare.

Angel removed the cap and let her hair fall back to her shoulders. "Hi! I'm from Alaska too!" It didn't really matter if she had never met him before. Just the thought of someone from back home was exciting.

White was completely and totally bewildered. A thousand questions ran through his mind, but he settled on a course of action quickly. "I'm Sergeant Eddie White."

"They call me Angel." Angel replied, noting that he kept a fairly straight face for all the confusion she must've just caused.

"So if you're from Alaska, why'd you say you lived in California?" Carter broke in.

"I moved Outside a couple of months before I was drafted." Eddie answered. "Before that, I was a bush pilot on the Southeast coast."

"You moved where now?" Newkirk looked confused.

"Outside." Angel explained. "It means he moved back down south one of the other states. Outside Alaska."

"Well, I guess that settles it." Carter had a satisfied look on his face. "He's definitely not a Jap."

"A what?" Eddie turned on the younger man, half surprised and a little bit angry.

"Take it easy buddy." Angel was between them in a minute. "They're cheechakoes. They've never even seen a Native Alaskan before. Or a Jap, for that matter."

"Oh." Eddie's anger dwindled as fast as it had flared. "So where are you from?"

"Kenai Peninsula mostly." Angel answered. It felt so good to talk to someone who knew what she was saying. "Our family spends part of the year on Kodiak and the rest on the Peninsula. We travel a lot."

"Fishing? Trading?" Eddied asked.

"Missionary work." Angel responded. "So a little of everything."

"How'd you end up here?" Eddie was working on answering the questions one at a time.

"That is a very long story that I will leave to Colonel Hogan." Angel jerked her head towards the officer.

Hogan smiled. "Well first, I think I should tell you, Stalag 13 is not exactly a normal prison camp…" The colonel went on to explain the whole operation to White, who listened almost without comment. The other Heroes occasionally broke into the conversation, adding their own information about what was going on.

Eddie shook his head as they finished. "Wow. That's pretty amazing." He was the first to not be visibly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the operation.

"Alaskans have a gift for understatement." Angel said, noticing the odd looks that Eddie was receiving. "When you live in a big land, understatement is kind of the only way you can look at life."

"Well, this certainly isn't Alaska." Hogan replied, still a little miffed at the reaction he had received. Or hadn't received.

"Boy you can say that again." Angel agreed emphatically. "It's a world away."

"Not even a totem pole outside the barracks." Eddie added, starting to loosen up for the first time.

The men all chuckled at that. All the men, except Colonel Hogan that is. Like a spark, the beginnings of a plan had been struck in his mind, flickering, wavering, and suddenly bursting into a full flame and roaring into a forest fire. As if drawn by some mysterious force that told them when the colonel was plotting, everyone in the barracks turned toward Hogan.

"Gentlemen… and Angel," He said slowly, nodding at the latter. "I think I may have figured out how to get our homework for the Underground done."

 _Author's Note: I was not blessed with a Native Alaskan heritage, but I do enjoy learning about their culture and traditions. On a historical note, many people think that the USA was not occupied during World War Two. This is a false conclusion. The Alaskan islands Attu and Kiska were invaded by the Japanese forces in 1943 and the campaign to reclaim the islands raged for a year. Many Alaskans served in the US military in the homeland, but a few also were present in other theaters. If you enjoy World War Two history, I'd encourage you to research the forty-ninth state's involvement in this great conflict._


	3. Totem Poles and Laws of Physics

"You want to build _what?"_ Klink rose from his chair as if levitated by the sheer ridiculousness of Hogan's request.

"Not me sir, the new prisoner." Hogan avoided a direct answer to Klink's question. "Sergeant White. He's an Indian you know."

"No, I didn't." Klink said drily. "But... what is this that he wants to construct?"

"A totem pole. Don't tell me you don't know what a totem pole is." Hogan looked at the German commandant in disbelieving derision. In actuality, the American colonel only had the vaguest of ideas of what a totem pole was. Eddie had attempted to explain the concept over the past day and a half while they were discussing the plan, but the traditional Native Alaskan craft was still a nebulous idea to the other POWs.

"Um yes. Well, er." Klink stuttered. "No, actually, I don't."

"It's a big pole that tells a story with the figures carved on it." Hogan explained. "Every home in Alaska has one."

There was a snort of laughter from Hogan's office across the compound. _"Where'd he get that idea?"_ Angel thought to herself. _"My house doesn't have one."_

"Very interesting." Klink said in a bored tone. "But this is not Alaska."

 _"You can say that again!"_ Eddie and Angel had the thought simultaneously.

"Yes sir, I'm aware of that." Hogan said patiently. "But Sergeant White… well, you know what they say. You can take the boy out of Alaska, but you can't Alaska out of the boy. And knowing how hard you try to make the men feel at home here, I was hoping you would let him carve a totem pole to put up outside his barracks."

"That is against regulations." Klink said.

 _"They have regulations against totem poles?"_ Angel shrugged at the thought. Maybe so.

"But Kommandant, the men have such tremendous respect for your fair consideration and kindness." Hogan argued. "You wouldn't want to spoil that by refusing one of them the right to celebrate his own culture, would you?"

Klink, however, was proving impervious to flattery this morning. "If I say it's against regulations, it's against regulations. We Germans don't simply disregard our own rules. Maybe you Americans do, but we can't."

"A man who lives by the books. Now there's something I really like to see." Hogan pointed at Klink for effect. The Kommandant puffed up a little at that.

"Yes sir." Hogan continued. "Do you care if your actions encourage mass rioting and escape attempts? No way! Because Colonel Klink is a man who does everything by the numbers! I salute you sir." And he did.

Klink returned the salute, although it was now obvious that he was distracted and worried. "Mass riots? Escape attempts?"

"Didn't you hear about that big uprising in Stalag 8 last month?" Hogan asked in surprise. "The commandant wouldn't let the French prisoners celebrate Bastille Day. Within two weeks, he'd had over ten escapes and the prisoners were on the verge of taking over the camp! I don't have to tell you what happened when Berlin found out about that." Hogan made a vague gesture to the east.

"But those were French people. Not Indians." Klink protested weakly.

That caused a reaction in Barracks Two. "Hey! What is that supposed to mean?" LeBeau cried indignantly.

"Well, yer average Frenchie is a bit more likely to go off than, say, a steady 'ole English lad." Newkirk told him very matter-of-factly."

"Oh yeah? And I suppose it was self-control that caused you to alienate your half-grown, _rebelles_ colonies and start a whole war?" LeBeau shot back, proving Newkirk's point in the process.

Carter frowned at the mention of the colonies. "Hey wait a minute…"

Angel rolled her eyes. This was shaping up to be the War of 1812 all over again. "Guys, be quiet." She said sternly.

"That's enough." Kinch said at the same instant and gave the others a warning look. The pair shared a quick, amused glance as the argument trailed off into grumbles.

Angel briefly wondered how she managed to slip back into 'oldest sister mode' so quickly. At least this time she had back up. Apparently, staff sergeants and eldest sisters shared a job description. Angel turned her attention back to the coffee-pot.

"Ever heard of the Sitka massacre?" Hogan's tone told Klink that he did not want to hear what happened. "Believe me, you do not want to get those fellas riled up."

Klink hesitated, weighing out the options. After all, it was simply carving on wood and it would keep the prisoners occupied with something besides escaping and rioting. "Alright. Alright. You can have your totem pole."

"Thank you sir." Colonel Hogan replied effusively. "I'll have Shultz take us out in the truck." He turned to leave, knowing full well that Klink would stop him.

"Wait, Hogan."

Right on time. "Yes Kommandant?"

"What exactly do you mean 'have Shultz take you out in the truck'?" Klink was definitely suspicious.

"Well, White said that he has to choose the tree for a totem pole very carefully." Hogan explained. "Otherwise the spirits will be very upset and you certainly don't want angry forest spirits wandering around camp, do you?"

"I don't care about the spirits." Klink shook his fist. "You may not leave camp!"

"Yes, of course." Hogan sighed theatrically. "Of course, you know this could cost you a promotion."

"A promotion? What?" Klink's hearing was programmed to be sensitive to a few key phrases, including 'promotion', 'Gestapo', and 'the Russian front.'

"You know how those guys in Berlin are about innovative ways to educate prisoners." Hogan said carelessly. "The propaganda ministry eats it up!"

"And allowing a few prisoners to see how Sergeant White chooses a tree is educational?" Klink was skeptical.

"Absolutely!" Hogan answered enthusiastically. "An insight to another culture! Another world!"

"Which would definitely impress my superiors…" Klink mused. "Alright. You may go, but only if you promise not to escape."

"My word as an officer and a gentleman." Hogan almost winced. Those were words that he hated using lightly. "Besides, with Shultz around, we won't have a chance to escape."

"Yes, it's much too long of a run to get around him." Klink said sarcastically. "Diiisssmiissssed."

When Colonel Hogan entered the barracks, he was met with a chorus of enthusiastic praise for his work.

"You've been listening in again." The officer mock-scolded them, but there was a grin on his face. He was rather happy with the way it had all worked out.

"You were brilliant Colonel." Kinch told him with a matching satisfied smile.

"A ruddy magician!" Newkirk agreed.

"Only one thing." Angel spoke up. "The Battle of Sitka wasn't fought over totem poles."

"And we also lost that one." Eddie chimed in.

"Hey!" Hogan slung an arm around each of them. "What Klink doesn't know won't hurt us."

Later that afternoon, Colonel Hogan slipped away from the group in the forest. Eddie had slipped quickly into the role of master showman and was keeping everyone fascinated with his lecture on choosing totem poles. Although the Native Alaskan was naturally quiet, he proved to be quite adept at making up stories on the spot and joining in the general flummoxing that was a part of the regular routine at Stalag 13.

Hogan began making his way on an overgrown trail to the secluded part of the forest where he was supposed to meet the Underground agent. The colonel had been surprised at how easily White had fit into this operation. Upon mentioning it to Angel, the girl had shrugged and said, "Colonel, he's an Alaskan. Alaskans adapt. We make our own way." Hogan shook his head. This mission was going all-out Alaskan. His musings were interrupted as a sound came from his right. Hogan dropped into the bushes silently.

The noises grew louder and Hogan spotted a figure coming through the trees, obviously heading for the clearing in front of the colonel. The person stepped into the clearing, the meeting spot, and looked around. Hogan saw that it was a young, and quite pretty German girl with long brown hair and dark eyes.

" _This mission just got better."_ He mused as he stepped out of the bushes. The girl jumped in fright and stared at him with wide eyes. "It's getting warmer. Soon the spiders will be coming out." Hogan gave the code phrase.

"Ja, but the rain will wash them away." The girl completed the recognition code.

"You're the Itsy Bitsy Spider?" Hogan asked. When the agent nodded, he grinned. "I wouldn't mind you asking me into your parlor."

"Please, this is very important." Itsy Bitsy Spider said nervously, her eyes darting around the clearing as if she expected the Gestapo to jump them at any time. "You received our message?"

"Yeah, and I can't say I'm too pleased with it." Hogan leaned back against a nearby tree. "What do you people think we are, the local sabotage supermarket?"

"We would do the jobs ourselves but we're being watched constantly by the Gestapo." Itsy Bitsy replied hurriedly. "I had a hard time even escaping to come here. You do have the experience and the equipment to handle the first two, no?"

"We can blow up the bridge and munitions factory, yes." Hogan nodded and crossed his arms. "With all the experience we're getting, we'll be able to start a demolitions company after the war."

"What about…" Itsy Bitsy started.

"But if you think we're going to try sneaking into Gestapo HQ, you're off your web." Hogan finished, scowling.

"I know it is risky." Itsy Bitsy soothed. "But our information says that you can do it. The word is that you can do the impossible!"

"I really need to tell the boys to cut back on the 'best in the business' advertising." Hogan grumbled under his breath. "What's so important that we have to risk everything?"

"Information. We need the files that the Gestapo have collected on the Underground in our area. We need to find out how much they know. Also, there is a map that shows the locations of various strategic military units in the building. Film of that map could strike a crippling blow to the German army." Itsy Bitsy relayed all of this rapidly.

"Great." Hogan said sarcastically. "Is there anything else you want while we're in town?" He didn't expect an answer. He really should have known.

"One more thing. An Underground agent was captured in a small village not far from here. She is being held in Hammelburg head-quarters. She has vital information that cannot be revealed."

Hogan rubbed his forehead. "Is that all?"

Itsy Bitsy nodded. "Yes."

"Well that just fine." The colonel was frustrated. "How in the world are we supposed to get all of this done?"

"I don't know. That is up to you." Itsy Bitsy replied.

"Not this time." Hogan said shortly. "We'd really like to help out, but we just can't do that all at once."

"Please." Itsy Bitsy pleaded, laying a hand on the colonel's arm and looking into his eyes. "You will be saving lives and possibly your Underground contact network. And you cannot just leave the girl in the hands of the Gestapo…"

Colonel Hogan looked at her. " _Oh those eyes…"_

 _"_ Oh alright." He said out loud. "We'll give it our best shot. But," he interrupted before Itsy Bitsy could respond. "I need to know where the files are, where the map is, and what the agent looks like."

"I have the information here with me." Itsy Bitsy reached into the pocket of her jacket.

Hogan rolled his eyes upwards. "Am I really that predictable of a sucker?" He asked no one in particular.

"They want us to do _what?"_ Kinch's deep voice rose in pitch and in incredulity. Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau made noises that said they agreed with Kinch. They were slowly following Colonel Hogan around the barracks, heading for Eddie's makeshift workshop outside the rec hall.

"It's not that big a deal." Hogan shrugged. "We've gotten into Gestapo headquarters before."

"Yeah but we almost didn't make it out." Carter exclaimed.

"Carter, we're here aren't we?" Hogan shot his demolitions expert an annoyed glance.

"We'll still have to go out several times in order to get all of this done." Kinch continued.

"How are we supposed to get out of camp?" LeBeau asked. "How do we explain our disappearances to Klink?"

"I don't know yet." Hogan answered with a frown.

"Colonel." Newkirk said in a low tone. He leaned toward his commanding officer in a conspiring manner. "I don't mean ta doubt ya, sir, but don't ya think you've taken a bit more than you can 'andle this time around?"

"Look guys." Hogan whirled to face his men. "I already told Itsy Bitsy Spider that we'd do the job. So we're going to do it. Somehow."

"Itsy Bitsy Spider must have been pretty convincing." LeBeau muttered.

"She was." The sentence slipped out without Hogan even thinking.

"Oho!" Newkirk visibly brightened. "So it was a she, now was it?"

"Com'on Colonel, spill it." Kinch gave the colonel a knowing grin.

By this time, they had reached the workshop where Eddie was bent over a newly peeled log. Several prisoners had congregated to watch and a few of the more creatively gifted ones were helping with the carving process.

"Well, let's just say that I wouldn't mind Itsy Bitsy Spider having eight legs, if they matched the two she's got now." Hogan said as they stopped in front of the building.

"Colonel Hogan, that's disturbing." A voice came from the shadows of the rec hall.

The somewhat startled group of five turned towards the voice. Angel stepped out of the doorway, her face screwed into an expression of disgust. "Don't you ever think about anything else?"

"Sorry." Hogan managed to look half-way contrite. "I wouldn't have said anything if I'd have known I was in mixed company."

Angel rolled her eyes. "Boys." She muttered under her breath. "What else did you find out, Colonel? And I don't mean about Itsy Bitsy."

Hogan grinned. It was way more fun to drive Angel up the wall than Klink or Shultz. He repeated what he had learned from the agent.

"Wow." Angel shook her head. "That's a tall order, even for you guys. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"I don't think there's a lot you can do." Kinch told her.

Angel shrugged. "Well, at the least I can make sure the female agent that you're going to rescue is alright. It's easier for a girl, you know. And it is something, even if it's just waiting in the tunnel."

"In the tunnel." Hogan mused. "Speaking of which, why are you up here?"

"Hey yeah." Carter interrupted. "Shultz or one of the guards could spot you."

Angel waved the concern aside. "It's fine. They usually don't give me a second glance." Dressed in heavy fatigues with her hair hidden under a cap and slouched against a building, she actually could pass for just another prisoner.

"Well you better 'ope so." Newkirk whispered frantically. "'Cause 'here come Shultz!" He jerked his head to where the large guard was walking around the corner.

"Angel! Cover your face!" Hogan hissed as he turned to face Shultz.

The girl reacted quickly, pulling out a bandana that she kept in her pocket as an emergency bandage. Folding it hastily, she covered her eyes and most of the upper half of her face, tying it behind her. She didn't expect that the heavy guard would even spare a glance in her direction anyway. Angel had just enough time to resume her slouched position before Shultz got within noticing distance.

"Hiya Shultz!" LeBeau greeted the big man cheerfully. The greeting was echoed around the circle.

"Come to watch the carving?" Hogan asked, nodding toward the totem pole in progress.

"No, I came to talk to you." Shultz answered, his eyes traveling around the group of prisoners. Unfortunately, he notice the one skulking in the back. "Why does he have a blindfold on?" Shultz asked, half concerned and half confused. A puzzled frown crowded his normally jolly features.

Hogan took a quick look behind him, already knowing who Shultz was referring to. "Oh him? The sun bothers his eyes. He has to wear that blindfold."

"So why doesn't he just stay inside?" Shultz questioned.

"That could 'ardly be 'ealthy for the poor bloke." Newkirk pointed out with a condescending smile.

"Yeah." Carter immediately agreed. "My mom used to say that people who don't get enough fresh air would soon go to seed. She used to make my brothers and sister and I go outside every day. In fact…"

"We get the idea Carter." Hogan cut in, sensing one of Carter's lengthy lectures was about to ensue. "What'cha want to talk about Shultz?"

Shultz glanced around nervously. "Please, it is private."

Hogan gave his men a glance and they moved off accordingly as the colonel turned Shultz around to face the other direction. He immediately noticed that Angel had not left and realized that she couldn't anywhere. It was about the same time that Angel herself realized that she had effectively cut herself off from the rest of the world. The last thing she wanted to do is stumble around and attract attention. inwardly berating herself for her lack of insight, she simply leaned back against the building.

"Colonel Hogan, I need…" Shultz began, apparently oblivious to the person standing not five feet away.

"Hold it a minute Shultz." Hogan stopped him. "I thought you said this is private."

"It is."

"Well, don't you want to keep it private from him too?" Hogan gestured towards Angel.

"Why should I be worried about him?" Shultz stared at Hogan. "He can't see anything."

An inspiration hit Hogan so fast that he was nearly physically knocked backwards. "Good point." He said distractedly. "Now what was it you needed?"

Shultz's hands fluttered nervously. "Please, Colonel Hogan, you know I have always tried to look after you and your boys as best I can. You are like family to me. So I was wondering…" His eyes got big and pleading. "Could you lend me some money, just in the family?"

"Of course. Of course!" Hogan reached into his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. "Always happy to help a friend in need." He handed Shultz a few bills.

"Oh thank you Colonel Hogan!" Shultz moaned happily. "I promise you, I will repay you!"

"Don't mention it Shultz." The colonel called after the happy German sergeant as he marched away, looking at the money.

Newkirk, Carter, Kinch, and LeBeau drifted back together. Carter noticed Angel still standing by the building and went over to her, intending to tell her that the coast was clear. When he touched her arm, Angel gave a little yelp of surprise and nearly back-handed him into the wall.

"Whoa! Hey!" Carter managed to dodge the blow.

"Don't do that!" Angel said as she tore off the bandana. "I get edgy when I can't see who it is that's touching me."

"You've got pretty good reflexes." Kinch complimented her.

"And they just might come in handy." Colonel Hogan stated. He had his arms crossed around him and he was grinning off into space. Everyone knew what that meant and they quickly surrounded the colonel.

"What are you thinking, mon colonel?" LeBeau asked, rubbing his gloved hands together.

"You asked how we would cover our absence here at camp." Hogan began in an explanation tone. "The answer is to do all the missions in one night."

"But we'd 'ave to miss one role call at least." Newkirk protested.

"Not if Colonel Klink can see us here." Hogan answered, his smile growing wider as he refined his plan.

"Wait a minute." Carter had a look of intense concentration on his face. "If Klink can see us here, then we'd have to be here. And if we're here, we can't be out there. And if we're not out there, we can't get all that stuff done."

"Brilliant deduction Carter." Hogan congratulated. "Only you're wrong. We're going to be here where Klink can keep an eye on us. And we're going to be outside the wire, doing our job."

"I think that defies one of the laws of physics, Colonel." Kinch pointed out.

"It's a sure sign." Newkirk shook his head sadly. "I've seen it comin' for months, you know. 'e's finally lost it. Gone completely crackers."

"Newkirk, Kinch, you have found the key to this plan." Hogan turned his grin to the two skeptics. "In fact, it's not only the key to getting out of camp, but also getting pictures of that map and getting the agent out of Gestapo headquarters."

Angel didn't know whether to feel honored or terrified, so she just smiled nervously when Colonel Hogan put an arm around her and said. "And Angel here is the one who gave me the key."

 _History Note: The Battle of Sitka was that last notable conflict between the Russian traders and the Tlingits. Not only did the Tlingits not win that particular battle, but they occupied a defensive position throughout the entire ordeal. So, it wasn't the best example for Colonel Hogan to use, but hey, Colonel Klink doesn't need to know that._


	4. Potlatch of the Decade

"Now you're sure you understand your part of the plan?" Colonel Hogan addressed the question to Eddie, who was standing in the officer's quarters, along with the rest of the team.

"I understand it alright, sir." Eddie answered slowly.

"Do you think you can pull it off?" Angel asked.

"A four or five hour potlatch? Yes, I can do it if everyone helps." Eddie said, but he still hesitated.

"So what's the matter?" Hogan wanted to know.

Eddie squirmed uncomfortably. "It's just that… my ancestors would be turning in their graves if they knew what I was doing to one of our most honored traditions. Not to mention what my village elders would think of me!"

Smiles broke out around the room at the soldier's concern. Hogan put an arm around Eddie and gazed at him seriously. "I'm sure both your ancestors and your elders would understand you taking a little… creative license… with the normal totem pole dedication ceremony."

"Creative license?" Eddie stared. "With all due respect, Colonel, you've never seen a potlatch so you don't know what I'm doing to it. I'm butchering it! It's not anything like the celebration we have back home!"

"Sergeant." Hogan sighed. "As long as we can fool the Germans, it doesn't have to be anything like what you do back home. Think of it as just another contribution to the war effort."

"Yeah." Angel agreed. "You don't have to think of it as an actual, real potlatch. It's just something you're doing to help us out." She gave him a smirk. "Besides, I'm assuming that your totem pole isn't exactly traditional?"

Eddie had become very secretive about the design on his pole. No one but himself and a few handpicked workers knew what the finished product looked like. "Not really." The native man answered, a rare smile flashing across his features as he considered what he had carved into the wood over the past few days.

"Well then it isn't really a dedication ceremony for a real totem pole anyway." Angel pointed out triumphantly. "It won't be disrespectful to tradition."

"It stills feels wrong to be twisting it like this." Eddie hedged.

"Look mate." Newkirk suddenly spoke up. "We've all gotta make sacrifices for the war."

Eddie straightened. "You are right." He saluted Hogan. "It'll be done, sir."

"Good man." Hogan returned the salute.

"Now I will go check on the men who are finishing the painting on the totem pole." Eddie turned and left the office.

"Now that we have that taken care of, does everyone else understand what we're going to do?" Hogan scanned the circle of faces around him. A cacophony of affirmatives met his question.

"I know what to do. But I'm still kind of worried about the last part of your plan, Colonel." Angel admitted.

"What's the matter?" LeBeau teased. "Don't you trust us?"

Angel appeared to think about this. "Well, I trust Kinch, for sure. And I'm pretty confident in you, LeBeau. But Carter has enough trouble not running himself into things, much less me. And I keep having this horrifying mental picture of Newkirk getting distracted by a girl. And Colonel Hogan… well, he is an officer. No offence sir." Angel added hastily.

Hogan solemnly raised his right hand. "I promise we won't walk you off any cliffs." He said without the slightest hint of humor.

"Oh thanks." Angel replied drily.

"Now, I'd better go speak to Old Blood and Guts about the celebration." Hogan grabbed his cap off the table. "The rest of you, go get ready for tomorrow night."

"Why? What're we going to do tomorrow night, Colonel?" Carter piped up from his perch on the top bunk.

Hogan leaned back into the office, one hand on the door knob. "The same thing we do every night, Carter. Try to end the war." Then he slammed the door.

Two minutes later, Colonel Hogan slammed another door, this one in Klink's office. "Good morning Kommandant!" he said in an infernally cheerful voice.

"Hogan, didn't anyone ever teach you to do anything quietly?" Klink grumbled.

Hogan pretended to think it over. "No sir. That's why I joined the Air Force."

"What do you want?" Klink sounded supremely annoyed, which suited Hogan just fine.

"I just wanted to come and invite you to the party." Hogan answered.

"Party? What party?" Klink was only half focused on the conversation, the rest of his attention being taken up with the paperwork on his desk.

"The dedication celebration for the new totem pole." Hogan said it as if wondering how Klink could forget.

The German colonel looked up suspiciously. "Aha. It's a diversion for you and your men to attempt an escape. Request denied." Colonel Klink went back to his papers.

"But sir, you were to be the guest of honor!" Hogan protested loudly. "It's traditional for the elder of the clan to preside over the celebration. Since you're such a father-figure to the men, we thought having you present would fill that role."

"Guest of honor?" That had a ring that Klink liked.

"All you'd have to do is sit in the best seat and watch." Hogan continued. "We wouldn't dare try anything with you there to keep an eye on us."

"I suppose that might be possible." Klink relented.

"Fine. It starts right after evening role call, tomorrow." Hogan turned towards the door.

"Wait, why at night? Why can't you do it during the day?"

"Kommandant, now think about it." Hogan reprimanded. "There's a certain atmosphere that has to go with these things. Broad daylight just doesn't have the right atmosphere."

Klink nodded vigorously a few times. "Yes, that makes sense."

"Glad you agree sir. If there's one thing you've got, it's a sense of atmosphere. Especially between your ears." Hogan gave Klink a less than textbook salute and left.

"Ok, everyone ready?" Hogan asked for what could very possibly be the hundredth time. There were only nine men in the barracks now; the rest of the camp being occupied with the show that was just getting started outside. Everyone had been instructed to make the ceremony as long and confusing as possible as possible. From the sounds coming from outside, they were already warming to their task, even though the celebration hadn't officially begun.

"Colonel, I have a question." LeBeau promptly stated. "Why must we be forced to suffer the embarrassment of walking out in these?" he waved his arms, causing the dyed and decorated blanket that he was wearing to flutter.

"Hey! Blankets are a very important part of the Tlingit culture." Angel pointed out. "It makes it look authentic."

"Well then what about these?" Newkirk, also decked out in Tlingit robe wannabe, was staring at his carved mask. "Blimey, this poor bloke looks like 'e's had a bad dish of fish stew!" The expression on twisted, disfigured wooden animal's face did resemble that of a person suffering from serious indigestion.

"They always look at that." Angel rolled her eyes. "It's tradition." She was used to the Alaskan style art, but seeing it through the Englishman's eyes made her do a double take. The disproportionate caricature of a wolf did make it seem like it was in pain.

"What exactly are we supposed to be doing again?" Carter asked.

"Carter." Kinch shot him a look. "It doesn't matter. Just do something so everyone will look at you."

"Yeah, but I don't want to mess it up." Carter seemed a little nervous. "I mean, these things are pretty important and there's usually a series of steps you have to follow and…"

Hogan stopped him by clapping a hand down on his shoulder. "Carter. Ad lib, ok? This is Klink and the camp guards, not a Hollywood screen test."

"You could do a Sioux rain dance and they probably wouldn't know the difference." Kinch pointed out.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Carter shot back immediately, a grieved look on his face.

Before anyone could comment, a drum beat started from outside.

"That's our cue." Hogan said, moving to the door. "Let's go."

Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter followed him out the door. Their appearance was met with a great deal of enthusiastic shouting and cheering, more appropriate for a football game than a solemn dedication ceremony.

"Gentlemen, and uh, gentlemen!" A voice boomed over the crowd.

"Is that Olsen?" Angel laughed.

"Yeah." Kinch answered, keeping an eye to the cracked door. "Eddie put him in charge of the opening."

"Hey, this I gotta see." Angel said, ducking under Kinch's arm and peeking outside. He grinned and made room for her.

Angel had a good view of the proceedings. The barracks faced out onto the parade grounds where the crowds of prisoners and guards sat or stood. In the open area in front of them, eight or nine 'dancers' in blanket costumes stood with their backs to the door, all holding their masks in their hands. The entire scene was lit with torches. Angel could see that Colonel Klink was sitting on a huge, wooden platform which was as colorfully decorated as the costumes. She had to bite back a giggle when she noticed that someone had given him an 'Indian' hat to wear. With his German uniform and monocle, the result was quite ludicrous. All eyes were glued to the figures 'on stage.'

"Welcome to the Stalag 13 event of the year! The dedication of the new totem pole!" Olsen bellowed. He swept his arm dramatically toward the still covered object in front of the barracks. "And here is our master of ceremonies, all the way from the Last Frontier itself, Eddie White!" He stepped back as Eddie came forward, meeting the roar of applause that followed Olsen's introduction.

"Silence!" Eddied thundered. The crowd was stunned into immediate obedience and the drums ceased. This was a much different person than the reserved sergeant they all knew. Eddie paced in front of the dancers. He too had a dyed blanket and hurriedly made headdress instead of the carefully crafted outfit of a Tlingit elder, but in the flickering firelight, he looked like the real deal. His solemn bearing and snapping black eyes made it seem as if they were attending an authentic ceremony, not a laughable mock-up. "We are about to begin the opening rites." His tone was almost unearthly, his deep voice mystic.

"Whoa." Angel whispered.

"He's a good actor." Kinch also sounded impressed.

Eddie began to chant something in another language as the audience held its collective breath. His performance was that captivating. The Native Alaskan moved from one dancer to the next, taking their masks and slipping them on each man.

"What's he saying?" Kinch asked Angel.

The girl shrugged. "Beats me. I didn't grow up with the Tlingit."

Eddie ceased chanting after securing Carter's mask. "We are ready to begin. The masks cannot be removed until the end of the ceremony. If they are removed, the connection with the spirits they picture will be broken." Eddie's voice darkened. "And great tragedy will fall on all of us."

"That's true enough." Angel murmured, thinking of their plan.

Eddie turned and gave the drum players a signal. A slow beat was started. "First, we must dance to honor those who came before us."

Angel almost laughed at the nonsense he was spewing. None of the potlatches she had ever heard of ever included this kind of absurdness. Not to mention that none of the dances at the festivals were this badly coordinated. The POWs who were drafted into the parts of performers had no clue what they were doing. As the drum continued beating they slowly began to move. None of them made exactly the same movements, and some of them weren't even in time to the music, but it didn't matter. There was no organization and no meaning to what they were doing. They just had to make a show for people to watch.

As the dancers gained confidence and began to explore new and innovative dance moves, the drums began to beat faster. Angel watched as the open area became a flurry of whirling blankets and brightly colored masks. It was hypnotizing to watch and she had to shake herself. Angel began to pick out individual figures. Colonel Hogan and LeBeau seemed to be the most awkward of them all. They stomped their feet, waved their arms and spun in an occasional circle, but didn't go much beyond that. Angel smirked. " _Bet they'd do better dancing with a girl in their arms."_ Newkirk seemed to fare a little better. He seemed to be everywhere in the group of dancers, always in motion. Leaping, twisting and turning like a deranged acrobat. " _He looks like he's running through a large crowd of people who all want to catch him."_ Angel mused. She smiled to herself. That's probably where he had learned to do it.

"Look at Carter." Kinch whispered, nodding his head toward a figure on the right. Angle did and her jaw dropped. In place of the usually klutzy Carter, there was a perfectly balanced player. The young tech sergeant actually seemed to be following a pattern that only he knew: spinning, bounding, and stamping the earth with his feet. His upper body movements were perfectly in sync, not like the chaotic and random arm waving that everyone else was doing. Carter's movements were quick, graceful, and in time with the music.

"You don't think…" Kinch let the sentence drop off.

"That he's doing the rain dance?" Angel finished. She glanced upwards. "I hope not. Because it looks real enough to work and we can't afford to have anything slowing us down." The beat was extremely rapid now and the dancers were beginning to tire.

"Any minute now." Kinch said under his breath.

Angel backed away from the door and turned to face the other men in the barracks. "Ready guys?" She said, giving them a quick look over. They had picked because of their similarity in size to Hogan, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk. The POWs nodded and Angel flashed them a smile. "Good. I'm going down to get ready. Break a leg, huh?" She started down the tunnel, then turned back. "Just… not literally." Angel disappeared below as they chuckled.

Within a couple minutes, Eddie broke loose with a shout. It was the signal everyone had been waiting for. The dancers stormed towards the barracks and through the door as the drums completed their last routine. The crowd went wild outside, cheering and clapping. Inside the barracks, there was a frantic scramble as the Heroes yanked off their masks and gave them to their replacements. The dancers immediately wheeled around and went back outside to take their bows, only this time they had four different people under the masks.

As the door banged shut, Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter began peeling off their blankets to reveal Gestapo uniforms underneath. The former three were still breathing heavily while Carter hardly seemed winded.

"That was pretty impressive out there, Andrew." Kinch told him.

"You think so?" Carter seemed pleased. "I thought I had almost forgotten how to do the Sun Dance. But once I got out there, it all started coming back to me."

"You're a natural mate." Newkirk gasped. "Although I still don't see 'ow you can do it and not get tuckered."

"It's all about conserving energy and focusing on what you're doing." Carter began importantly.

"After the mission you can teach us how." LeBeau muttered.

"Where's Angel?" Hogan was already focused on the task at hand.

Kinch jerked his head toward the tunnel entrance. "Down there."

"Alright, let's move out." Colonel Hogan was the first down the ladder. "Angel?" He called as the rest of the team followed quickly.

"I'm here." Angel answered, appearing at from the little alcove she'd claimed as her quarters. She was strapping a long, thin bladed knife to her hip. "You guys got your weapons already?" She asked without looking up.

It took a moment for anyone to find their voice. "Yeah, we've got them." Hogan answered, staring at her.

Angel finally noticed that it was quiet and looked up. "What?" She asked, wondering why everyone was looking at her.

"You're… dressed differently than we're used to seeing you." The colonel finally said.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Angel half-chuckled and rolled her eyes. "These things are a royal pain." Granted, the full, dark colored knee-length skirt was easier to move in than most, but Angel knew she wouldn't be comfortable until she had her own clothes on again. She threw the long, hooded cloak over her shoulders and fastened it. This served the triple purpose of hiding her knife, completing her disguise as a simple farm girl and providing great camouflage.

"But it makes you look so much more…" LeBeau hesitated with the words.

"Like a girl." Carter blurted out.

"Carter." Newkirk smacked his buddy in exasperation.

"S'ok." Angel grinned. "I've always been a tomboy. I nearly gave my friends a heart attack the first time I curled my hair."

"You know," Hogan said contemplatively. "I think I like the old Angel just as much, if not more."

"I don't know Colonel." Kinch shot a smile at Angel. "I like both of them pretty well."

"Well I certainly like the old one better, but she's a little too suspicious to be marching into Gestapo HQ." Angel responded. The ceiling began to shake and a stream of dirt trickled from behind one of the beams.

"The next dance started." Hogan noted. "Time for us to move." The mood became noticeably less jovial as they followed him to the emergency exit and stood by while he used the periscope to look around. As soon as he gave the all clear, they left the tunnel in groups of two.

Angel was the last one out. "Wow." She breathed. "They're not even running the spotlight." She crouched behind the bush anyway, out of habit.

"That distraction is working like a charm." Newkirk replied, his eyes smiling.

"Right, now let's get out of here before they remember to not be distracted." LeBeau headed off into the woods.

As soon as they were a safe distance away, Colonel Hogan held up a hand. "Newkirk, where'd you hide the truck you liberated from the motor-pool a few days ago?"

The Englander stopped and cocked his head, trying to get his bearings. "Shouldn't be more 'n a couple yards from that road over there." He pointed to an opening ahead.

They quickly located the vehicle and gathered around the front of it. Five faces turned toward Colonel Hogan, waiting for his final instructions. He looked at each one of them and sighed inwardly. They trusted him and would follow him anywhere. Sometimes, that was as big a burden as it was an honor. "Ok, you all know what to do." Hogan said out loud. "Meet at the rendezvous point in two hours whether you've completed you mission or not."

"We'll get it done." Kinch reassured. He was cool, determined and confident, as always. The others echoed their support.

Hogan nodded to himself. Yes, they would


	5. Explosions by Moonlight

"Oi, but it's cold." Newkirk said in a voice that was just above a whisper, shifting uncomfortably. He and Angel were sitting on top of a hill overlooking the supply depot, waiting for Kinch to return from some reconnaissance. There was a three-quarters moon out and the sky was clear. The pale light turned the grassy clearing where they were sitting a ghostly silver while the surrounding forest was painted in black hues.

Angel handed him the field glasses she was using. "It is a little chilly out here."

"Ha. A little chilly, she says." Newkirk muttered as he scanned the grounds below them through the glasses. "Me bloomin' fingers are fallin' off."

"It's not _that_ cold." Angel argued. "Anyway, there aren't any guards inside the fence, so they must all be on the outside. I don't think we're going to be able to sneak in."

"We'll wait an' see what Kinch says. And it is too that cold." Newkirk added the last part irritably.

"No. Cold is when your breath turns to ice crystals when you blow on something." Angel shot back. "Cold is when your fingers sting if you even so much as take them out of your gloves. Cold is…"

"Alright. Alright. Yer not helpin'." Newkirk growled. A noise from behind him caught his attention and he turned his head, expecting to see Kinch approaching.

"Well, comparatively…" Angel began.

"Angel." Newkirk cut her off. His entire voice had changed and he moved closer to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

Angel tensed when he touched her, not understanding immediately. "Newkirk…"

"There's a Kraut watching us from the woods." Newkirk said softly as he pulled her closer.

Comprehension dawned on Angel and she realized what her friend was doing. "Don't let him see the explosives." She breathed in the same tone he had used. At the same time, Angel slipped her arm around Newkirk's waist and leaned into him, effectively hiding the pack of dynamite between them.

"Who is that?" A voice barked in German.

Both of them turned at once and Angel used the movement to shove the field glasses down with the dynamite. A German soldier emerged from the woods, peering at them suspiciously. A flashlight beam was turned on the pair and they both blinked. "What is going on here?" the soldier asked.

Angel's first thought was, " _Boy, talk about foolish questions."_

Newkirk was already answering. "I am Captain Kirkmueller of the SS." His voice was harsh and very German sounding. "I'm am helping out with the security in this area. Watching for saboteurs."

The light beam flicked to Angel who blinked and turned her head back toward Newkirk. She knew the insignias on his uniform were visible and obvious. " _Come on. Fall for it."_ She pleaded silently. " _Please let him fall for it."_

"Oh, ja." The soldier's voice held a bit of knowing laughter. He gave Newkirk a sly wink. "Security. Danke, mein captain."

"That will be all." Newkirk turned around dismissively, still holding onto Angel.

"Heil!" The soldier clicked his boot heels together.

Newkirk flicked a hand into the air without bothering to look at the other man again. The sweet sounds of boots tramping off into the forest reached his ears.

Angel started to pull away, but Newkirk's hand was firm on her arm. "'e's not gone yet." He whispered. "I can still 'ear 'im. Might be comin' back to watch an' make sure."

Angel relaxed and continued with the show, laying her head on Newkirk's shoulder. "Didn't anyone ever teach him to mind his own business? That was close." She sighed

"Yeah." Newkirk answered. He could still hear the rustling of leaves behind him.

"Well you two are pretty cute." A very familiar, very American voice came from close by. "Your little Kraut buddy is gone now."

Newkirk and Angel jerked away from each other and sat up straight as Kinch joined them. The African-American's teeth shone in the darkness as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Enjoying the moonlight?" He asked mischievously. Angel's cheeks reddened slightly and she looked away shyly, not really sure what else to do with Kinch's teasing. Even the normally forward Newkirk looked a little embarrassed.

"We were just… I'm not…" Newkirk's normally fluent speech failed him and he got frustrated. "Lay off Kinch! I wouldn't mess around wit' Angel any more'n I would with me own sister!"

Kinch chuckled. Sometimes, Newkirk just needed to be taken down a few notches. "I know that. I know what you were doing. Come on." He started down the hill and Angel went to follow.

"Angel?" Newkirk called. She turned around to face him and was surprised to find him staring sheepishly at the ground. "Ya know I wouldn't do something like that… Not for real, right?"

Angel had to smile. Under all his carefree and cocky attitudes, Newkirk was pretty sensitive. "Does your sister trust you?"

He looked surprised at the question. "Of course she does."

Angel shrugged. "Then so do I." That pretty much summed up her relationship with all of Hogan's Heroes. They treated her like one of the guys, but not like one of the boys. And that was the way she wanted it.

Angel swatted at Newkirk playfully. "Although next time, I'd appreciate a little more warning. Come on. We've got a job to do." She turned and made her way swiftly down the hill. Newkirk paused to scoop up the bag of explosives and followed.

"What 'ave we got?" Newkirk asked in a low voice when they had rejoined Kinch.

"Too many guards on the perimeter." The radioman answered tersely. "There's no way we can get over the fence."

"That leaves through the front gate." Angel added.

"That does seem to be the most logical way in." Kinch agreed.

"So we'll take out the goon in the gate checkpoint, sneak in, blow up the buildings and get out." Newkirk finished. "Simple."

Kinch shook his head. "Not so simple. Those patrols check the front gate every three minutes. They'd notice if the guard was gone."

"So we'll give them a replacement." Angel suggested. Both men turned to stare at her. "We've got our own goon. Why not?" She asked innocently.

"It might work." Kinch said slowly. "What rank are you this time, Newkirk? Captain? That should be heavy enough to get you out of trouble."

"Now wait a minute." Newkirk's voice rose in protest. "What 'appens if the patrol doesn't believe me story?"

"Well, we're breaking into Gestapo headquarters tonight anyway." Angel pointed out unhelpfully.

"Oh a great ruddy comfort that is." Newkirk groused.

"That looks like our only option." Kinch glanced at his watch. "We've got to get outta here in the next twenty minutes if we want to be at the rendezvous point on time."

"Fine." Newkirk grumbled as he watched a patrol leave the front gate. "What would you lot do without me? C'mon Angel." He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the forest toward the little box at the gate.

"Achtung!" Newkirk yelled as he got closer, causing the occupant of the checkpoint to fly out of his chair.

The German corporal quickly snapped to attention when he saw the black uniform. "Javohl Herr Captain!" To his credit, he kept the tremor in his voice down to a minimum.

"I am Captain Kirkmueller." Newkirk continued, keeping his tone consistent with that of an arrogant officer who is accustomed to being feared and obeyed. "Our car broke down a mile from here. I will be commandeering one of your trucks for transportation back to Hammelburg." Angel stood slightly behind Newkirk, head down to hide the smile on her face. He was awful good at being an officer, for all the complaining he did about them.

"But Captain…" The guard stuttered. "We have no suitable vehicles here. Perhaps if I called…"

"Dumkof!" Newkirk suddenly bellowed. "What do you take me for? If I say I will have a truck from here, I will have a truck from here!" He started to circle the man, forcing the corporal to face into the enclosure.

"Captain, I…" The poor befuddled soldier only got two words out before 'Kirkmueller' cut him off again.

"Corporal." Newkirk's voice had sunk to a sub-zero temperature, perhaps his most convincing acting mode. "For questioning orders, I could have you shot. Or I could have you sent to the Russian Front. Or I could…" He was interrupted by the dull sound of fist impacting flesh. The sentry's eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Newkirk shot a look at Kinch, who had delivered the incapacitating blow. "Ya couldn't even let me finish?" He complained mildly.

Kinch shook his head and bent down to grab the German's arm. Angel took the other one and together they hauled the hapless guard away from the gate, leaving Newkirk at his new post.

"What should we do with him?" Angel asked after they were safely in the shadows. "We can't just leave him here to get blown up."

Kinch scanned the compound looking for an answer. "Put him in the truck." He said quietly, referring to a group of vehicles close by. "We'll figure something out." The idea of leaving an unconscious man, German or otherwise, to get incinerated didn't sit well with him either. They loaded the corporal into the back of a large truck and then turned back to the task at hand.

"Did you get the bombs from Newkirk?" Kinch asked.

"Yep." Angel pulled the satchel from under her cloak. "There are seven huts and seven packs of dynamite. I hope Carter made them strong enough."

"Have you ever known Carter to make something explode less violently than it needed to?"

"Touché. These are wooden buildings so they should go up like a torch."

"That was bad planning on someone's part." Kinch glanced toward the gate. The patrol would be coming back at any minute. "I'll take the four buildings on the right. You take the three on the left. Stay in the shadows in case any of the patrols happen to look inside the fence." He instructed.

"Right." Angel took three of the homemade bombs out of the bag cautiously. "Set the timers for eight minutes?"

"That should be enough." Kinch accepted the bag with the rest of the dynamite. "Meet me back here."

"'K." Angel slipped away, moving swiftly through the open area to the shelter of the first storage room.

Meanwhile, back at the gate, Newkirk waited for the next patrol to appear. He paced back and forth in the gate opening, planning the routine he would use on the soldiers. The phony Gestapo was debating whether to use a cold, bone-chilling approach or go with angry and blustering when a voice startled him.

"Was is los?" Two German soldiers strode toward the gate, their guns held at the ready.

" _Right then. Angry and blustering it is."_ Newkirk thought as he spun to face them. "What kind of security is this?" he demanded.

As always, the sight of a Gestapo captain had the two soldiers rethinking their attitudes. They both saluted hastily.

"I come to request a car and what do I find?" Newkirk continued his tirade. "No one in the checkpoint! Gates wide open! And the sentries do not find me for…" he glanced at his watch. "Two minutes?!"

"I beg your pardon, Herr Captain but…" The taller guard looked past Newkirk into the checkpoint box. "We did have a man in there." He finished lamely.

"Oh you did?" Newkirk pulled out the sarcasm. "Well tell me…." He let his voice drift and then suddenly roared. "Does it look like there is a man in there now?!"

At that moment, Kinch and Angel were reconvening by the truck. They could both hear Newkirk yelling insults and threats all the way in the back of the enclosure.

Angel laughed softly. "Wow. Newkirk sure does a good job of that."

"Aw, that's nothing." Kinch told her. "He does much better as an aid. Carter's the one who does the furious officer the best."

"Carter?" Angel said in disbelief. "Our sweet, peace-loving, innocent little Carter?"

"Yeah, there's a lot more to him that you might think." Kinch replied. He cupped his hands and gave a whistle.

It was the most relieving sound that Newkirk had heard all day. "Now I will take the truck and be on my way." He finished ranting. "And believe me, when my superiors find out what is going on here, you will find yourself guarding igloos!" He swiveled on his heel and stomped away, nose in the air, leaving the dumbfounded patrol behind. Newkirk walked straight to where the three large trucks were parked.

"Kinch? Angel?" he called quietly. Two back shapes rose from a pool of shadow under the largest truck. "Let's go!" Newkirk said anxiously, heading for the nearest vehicle.

"Uh, Newkirk, we're taking this one." Angel informed him, pointing to the truck on the far left.

"Why this one?" Newkirk asked, peeking into the bed. He immediately saw the sentry sprawled out on the floor. "You're a real bleedin' 'eart, you are." Newkirk told Angel wryly, but she knew he was teasing when he gave her a hand up into the back. Kinch vaulted in after her and Newkirk got into the driver's seat.

The engine started with a throaty roar and there was a sudden jerk as Newkirk put it in gear. They picked up speed as they passed the buildings and didn't bother to stop at the gates. Instead, Newkirk sailed right through, passing the even more astonished patrol on the way out. The phony Gestapo officer elected to yell a hearty 'Heil Hitler' as they flashed past and leave the German soldiers to choke on the exhaust fumes as they tried to answer. For several minutes, they bumped down the dirt road until Newkirk finally deemed it safe to pull over. He cut the motor and ran around to the back.

"I'd say it's been five or six minutes now, wouldn't you?" He asked, half-worried.

Angel opened her mouth to answer when a terrific explosive ripped through the night.

"Nah. I'd say closer to eight minutes." Kinch said contentedly.


	6. Meanwhile, An Old Alaskan Custom

While the two groups of saboteurs were making their way towards the rendezvous, those who were left behind in camp were facing other problems.

"They can't keep going like this." Olsen hissed to Eddie as they watched the dancers. "The crowd is beginning to get restless. Even our guys want to leave."

"What do you say we do?" Eddie answered under his breath. "We're only half way through."

"We just need to let the guys who have been dancing catch their breath and get organized." Olsen said, watching as a masked man staggered and nearly sent the whole line toppling like dominoes.

Eddie sighed. It was true. Watching men cavort around like so many inebriated puffins did get tiring after a while. "I had hoped they could keep it up for a little while longer. I've got some other ideas to stretch the time out, but…"

"They can keep it up." Olsen insisted. "They're good at rolling with the punches. They just need a little time to plan. And we need something that will keep the attention here for a while. To build the excitement."

Eddie thought quickly. " _We need something that will be the main attraction."_ His mind went back to different events that he had heard of in celebrations and a lightbulb flashed on. Or a hooligan-oil candle, as the case may be. "Do you have a really big blanket somewhere in camp?" he asked.

Olsen looked surprised. "We've got a tarp."

"Is it strong?"

"Yeah." Olsen still didn't see where this was headed.

"That would work." Eddied frowned as he thought through what he was about to do. "Can you get it here?"

"Sure." Olsen signaled one of the POWs and explained what was needed. "Say, what's all this about?" Olsen asked as the man ran off.

"You'll see." Eddie told him cryptically, giving the sign to the drummers to end the dance. He was just in time. As soon as the beat stopped, the dancers all slumped together, totally exhausted. "You talk to them." Eddie tilted his head toward the men. "Tell them that they're doing a great job and we just need to keep going for a little bit longer."

"I don't know what you're doing, but ok." Olsen shrugged and gathered the pretend Tlingit dancers together by the barracks wall.

Eddie stepped to the middle of the arena. "I need seventeen volunteers." He called out. "Only your biggest and strongest men." There was a buzz in the crowd as curiosity suddenly raged rampant. Slowly, seventeen of the most muscular POWs came forward as the tarp was finally brought out.

Eddie swallowed hard. He had only done this once before, after a long flight up north, and he hadn't done too well then. And from the looks of those men, it was going to be a rough second ride. Thinking of the importance of his mission, he put away his doubts and squared his shoulders.

"You are about to witness an old Alaskan custom." Eddie announced to the crowd. True, it was not his people's old custom, but the crowd couldn't tell the difference between Inupiaq and Tlingit anyway. "The Eskimo Blanket Toss."

Someone cheered as Eddie turned to explain the activity to his volunteers. The entire gathering waited in breathless anticipation as he finished talking and received nods from all around. Eddie steeled himself as they spread out the tarp, each man finding a hand hold on the edge. Luckily, the tarp was exactly the right size for seventeen men. Eddie walked to the middle and took a deep breath.

"Go!" he shouted.

All seventeen POWs lurched backwards, pulling the tarp taut as chest level. There was a collective gasp as the force propelled Eddie straight up into the air. Fortunately for the sergeant, the effort of the men on the tarp had been rather less than unified, so he was only bounced six feet into the air. Eddie swung his arms in a circle, treading air to stay upright. The shorter distance served as a sort of test run and he landed easily on slightly less tight tarp.

"Again. And pull harder." Eddie said just loud enough for the men to hear. This time they were much more synchronized and Eddie was shot almost twelve feet upwards. He tried not to think about how high he was and focused on staying upright. Then, with a slight jarring sensation, he found himself again standing on the tarp. The process was repeated three more times before Eddie stepped off and bowed to the crowd.

The audience, Germans and POWs alike, went absolutely wild. They screamed and stomped, whistled and clapped, and did so for several minutes. Eddie, still feeling the rush of adrenaline from his completed feat of daring, decided to go out on a limb. He strutted up to the platform where the Kommandant sat and stood at attention.

"Sir, it is customary for the leader of the clan to participate in the blanket toss." Eddie informed the officer.

Klink's already pale face went absolutely white. "Well, I'm flattered by I really couldn't…"

Olson, who had followed Eddie to the front, now spoke up loud enough for all to hear. "Now Colonel Klink, surely a man with your superior physical condition and balance wouldn't have any problem performing such an exercise." He purred. Inside, the 'outside man' was bursting with laughter. He wasn't sure where Eddie had come up with the idea, but Colonel Hogan himself couldn't have done better. And Olsen knew Hogan and his tactics very well.

"Well, I suppose I could give a little demonstration." Klink gave in. it was either that or be embarrassed in front of his own guards. He removed his coat and hat, then followed the two masters of ceremony to where the tarp was laying.

Eddie guided him to the middle. "Just tell them when you're ready sir." He said, and then stepped back to stand by Olsen.

"Think he'll make it?" Eddie said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Who Klink?" Olsen answered in equal tone. "He couldn't balance on the whole Russian front."

At that moment, there was a squeak from the valiant commandant which apparently passed for "Ready." The men heaved mightily and a most un-manly shriek was wrenched from Colonel Klink as he was catapulted into space. He soared upwards and everyone wondered how a person could go from vertical to horizontal so quickly. Klink reached the peak of his flight and began to fall back to earth.

At a later time, it would be questioned how in the world seventeen POW's knew exactly what to do without the slightest iota of previous planning. But however it happened, as the Bald Eagle plummeted downwards, all seventeen let just a fraction more tension out of the canvas than was needed. The result was that the tarp broke the commandant's fall, but it also let him hit the hard packed parade ground on his posterior. Quite hard.

Eddie knew that swift action was essential, or they would all end up in the cooler. He dashed over to where Klink was spread out on the ground, gasping in a totally fruitless and noiseless attempt to yell at someone for his current state. "Colonel, you landed sitting down. Do you know what that means?" Eddie asked excitedly. He went on without waiting to receive an answer. "According to legend, it is a sign you are destined to sit in high places, sir."

Klink was still wheezing meaninglessly from his recent shock, but he didn't look as furious. Olsen took this as a good sign and called for Shultz. "Come help the Kommandant back to his seat. And let's all give Colonel Klink a big hand." There was a round of applause from the ranks of soldiers as Shultz helped the still spluttering and impotent commandant get back up on his stand. Of course, there were a few boos and rude noises as well, but that was to be expected.

The drums began again and the dancers came out with fresh vigor to perform an interpretive dance of a mock battle. The audience responded with renewed cheering and fervent attentiveness. The blanket toss had done its work.

"White, that was a stroke of genius." Olsen said, leaning closer to the Native Alaskan in order to be heard. "Colonel Hogan is going to wish we had it on film."

Eddie looked over to where Klink had gotten past his speechlessness and was now shaking so hard that he almost rattled the wooden platform apart. "Maybe the Kommandant will favor us with a repeat performance." Eddie smirked.


	7. Into the Mouth of the Monster

Meanwhile, back in Hammelburg, another show was about to go on stage. This one lacked in levity, but made up for it in intensity. Hidden by a screen of bushes beside a road just outside of town, preparations were in progress. Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau were straightening their uniforms, making sure there were no evidences of their earlier destructive activity. Angel, Kinch, and Colonel Hogan were standing apart from the others, talking.

"Colonel, this isn't going to be easy for me." Angel said worriedly. "I can't react to what I can't see. And honestly, that scares me. If something goes wrong…"

"We're going to be right there." Hogan cut her off. "Don't worry."

"I can't help it." Angel admitted. "I'm the kind of person who has to know everything that's going on. And I'm jumpy enough around Nazis when I have my eyesight." She had depended on her senses to warn her of danger ever since she had been old enough to walk the woods alone. Losing her ability to see was a major fear.

"Trust us." Kinch said, pulling the folded rag out of his pocket. "We won't let anything happen to you." He understood her apprehension. Walking into a building full of hostile Gestapo agents without being able to know what they were doing was not a job for the faint of heart.

"Oh I trust you guys." Angel replied. "But the idea still bothers me."

"Look, I wouldn't ask you to do it if it weren't absolutely necessary." Hogan declared. "The information we're getting will be worth it."

Angel sighed. "You are right." She accepted the implications of her part in the mission, straightened her back, and took a deep breath. "Ok. I'm ready."

Kinch placed the white cloth over her eyes and tied it securely. The blindfold was wide enough that it covered almost half of her face.

"Perfect." Colonel Hogan said. He turned to the others. "You guys all set?"

"All ready here, sir." Newkirk answered, his eyes wandering curiously to Angel. "Ya know, that really completes yer outfit, Angel."

"Thanks Newkirk." Angel said sarcastically as the men gathered around her. She tensed, feeling the extra presence but not knowing who was where.

"Alright, as soon as we're inside, we'll split up. Carter, you got the explosives to blow open the safe?" Hogan asked.

"Right here." Carter patted the pouch at his side.

"Good. LeBeau will go with you to get the files. As soon as the distraction starts, Kinch will escape and pick up the papers. While that's happening, Carter will secure the back door and let Kinch out that way. Newkirk and I will be unlocking the door to the Underground agent's cell. Angel will be alone in the office, snapping pictures of the map on the wall. Angel, you do have the camera, right?" Hogan interrupted his own explanation.

"On a chain around my neck." Angel nodded.

"Good. LeBeau will find Newkirk and me, and then he'll go pick up Angel and take her down to the cell block. The agent will put on the blindfold and Angel will change into a Gestapo uniform. Then we'll all walk out of the building in the confusion of an escaped prisoner and a blown safe." Hogan finished. "Any questions?"

"What happens if someone comes into the office while Angel's taking pictures?" Carter asked.

"Carter." Angel moaned. "Don't even say such things."

"No one will come into the office." Hogan reassured her. "The Gestapo major will be too busy running around trying to catch Kinch and find out about the explosion. And that's the beauty of the whole thing. He won't think twice about leaving a blind girl in an office with top secret material."

"Plus, the blindfold will act like a mask for the Underground agent." Kinch added.

"So the most dangerous part will be getting Angel into and out of the office." LeBeau pointed out.

"You guys are doing wonders for my confidence." Angel scowled. Half the effect was lost because no one could see her eyes.

"Cheer up Angel." Newkirk gave her a slap on the back, which only served to nearly send her jumping out of her skin. "We'll get you through, no problem."

"Now that we're clear, let's go." The colonel said, motioning toward the truck. "Kinch, you're with Angel on the way in."

"Right." Kinch moved closer to Angel and placed her hand on his arm. Angel relaxed almost imperceptibly. It was helpful to have something to hold onto; never before had a human touch been so welcomed.

Hogan watched them all load up into the truck. Angel paused at the tailgate and was all but lifted into the back by the others. She could have waited until they reached town to put the blindfold on, the colonel wanted her to be used to it by the time they arrived at Gestapo headquarters. Hogan climbed into the passenger's seat up front and nodded to LeBeau, who was his driver. The truck started and they began their journey.

Hogan stared contemplatively at the road ahead. The plan was complicated in some ways and it would require precision timing, but he had faith in the four men were under his command. And Angel fit so well with the rest of them that she was as good as one of the team. They were all quick thinkers and willing to put everything they had into completing the mission. Add to that an unfailing courage and unity as a team and the job was in the bag. Colonel Hogan leaned back against his seat and sighed contentedly. It was an honor to serve with them.

In just a few short minutes, the truck was slowing to take the streets of the town. In the darkness above, the clouds hung heavy and gray, blocking out the moon and stars. The wind held a biting iciness, a promise of snow. As they wound their way through Hammelburg, the yellow light from the street lamps did little to ease the cold blackness of the night. The final sight to complete the chilling impression were the red and black flags that hung lip and lifeless outside the Gestapo headquarters.

Carter felt an uncontrollable urge to shiver as he jumped out of the truck and stared up at the huge metal swastika over the door. Instead, he tamped the shiver down and helped Newkirk pretend to manhandle Kinch out of the truck. The big radioman had retained his American uniform in order to pose as an escaped prisoner. After shoving Kinch off the back of the truck to be held at gunpoint by Carter, Newkirk jerked Angel forward, nearly pushing her over the edge but careful not to make her fall. They had all agreed that it was necessary to play rough in order to look convincing. Kinch reached up and helped Angel down. He was the only one who could afford to be nice to her at the moment. Hogan and LeBeau appeared and the senior officer nodded at his other 'Gestapo-men' who fell in behind the 'prisoners' as they marched inside.

From Angel's perspective, the entrance was far more abrupt. She felt a gun barrel touch her back and started forward with a jolt. Kinch guided her up the stairs and a draft of warm air greeted them as they opened the door. Angel instinctively knew that there were more people around when she entered the front room of the building, but the world remained dark. It was fairly quiet too, the only noises being those that usually no one paid any attention. But to the girl who was experiencing all of this without sight for the first time, it was a disquieting sensation. Her hand tightened on her companion's arm and Kinch reached over to touch her fingers in support. They came to a sudden stop.

"I am Major Hoganheinrich." That was Colonel Hogan's voice, except with a German accent. "I need a safe place to hold and interrogate these prisoners."

"Certainly, Herr Major." Came a smooth and unsettling voice. "We can take them off your hands."

"You don't understand." Hogan argued. "These are top security prisoners. I am personally responsible for taking them to Berlin." There was a rustle of paper as he produced orders to back up his story.

"I see." Angel wasn't sure, but the person speaking seemed to be slightly disappointed. She mentally dubbed him Desk Clerk One. "What is so important about them?"

"The man is an escaped prisoner. Obviously American." Colonel Hogan even managed to put a tiny sneer into his voice. " _Impressive."_ Angel thought.

"The other is a girl suspected of working with an underground escape society." Hogan continued. "We wish to uncover more information about this group."

"Why is she wearing a blindfold?" Another voice came from the same general direction of Desk Clerk One and Angel labeled him accordingly as Desk Clerk Two.

"There was an… incident with a gun going off too close to her face, damaging her eyes." Hogan replied, his tone of voice indicating that he may or may not be telling the truth. "Let's just say it's not a pretty sight."

"Ja. An incident." Desk Clerk One's voice said that he had comprehended the hidden meaning and there was cruel laughter in his answer. Angel felt the muscle in Kinch's forearm contract, which probably meant he had just clenched his fist. No doubt the other guys were hiding equal expressions of distaste.

"You can take them to the cells. Downstairs." Desk Clerks Two's voice sounded a little bored now.

"Just a moment." Hogan said suddenly. "I am not satisfied with the security here. I wish to speak to the officer in charge."

"But Major Hoganheinrich," Desk Clerk One protested. "There is no need for concern. We have this building guarded day and night."

"I am under orders from Reich Fuhrer Himmler himself." Hogan's voice was beginning to get impatient. "I am responsible to get these prisoners safely to Berlin. And I will not be satisfied until I speak to the commanding officer!" He ended on a note just under a shout.

"Yes Major." The distaste was obvious when Desk Clerk Two spoke. "I will take you to his office right away." There was a noise as a chair was scooted back and footsteps on the hard floor. Then they were moving again.


	8. A Different Sitka

The little group of infiltrators marched up a set of stairs to an office on the second story. As they walked down a paneled hallway, LeBeau spotted a set of stairs leading back down to the first level. He grabbed Carter and pulled him into the stairwell as the others moved on. Luckily, Desk Clerk Two didn't seem to notice.

Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, Kinch and Angel were led around a corner and to a large wooden door. The German soldier from downstairs knocked almost timidly, his former bravado gone.

"Come." A menacing voice answered from within the office.

Desk Clerk Two opened the door carefully. "A Major Hoganheinrich to see you sir." He said.

Hogan seized Angel's arm and dragged her into the office as he brushed past the German soldier in the doorway. One look at the huge map on the wall confirmed that they were in the correct office. "Major Messner? A pleasure to meet you sir." Hogan said, turning towards the officer and shoving Angel into a nearby chair in the same movement. Angel, still being off balance from the unexpected movement, fell pretty roughly and winced as her elbow hit the arm of the chair. At least they looked authentic.

"What are you doing here?" Major Messner growled, obviously displeased with the disruption. He was seated behind a large desk, his pen still poised over a batch of papers. No wonder he was irritable.

"I'm on a special assignment to take these prisoners to Berlin." Hogan explained. "I was hoping to use your facilities to hold them overnight."

"Yes, yes." Messner waved toward the door. "Use the cells in the basement."

"You don't seem to realize the importance of these prisoners." Hogan was stalling for time, hoping to keep the major talking long enough for Newkirk and Carter to start the diversion. "I must be sure that they are absolutely secure. You know how the boys in Berlin are about these special prisoners. If they escape, the brass will see that I escape… to the Russian Front."

"What does that have to do with me?" Messner asked in annoyance.

"If I left my prisoners in your care and they happened to escape…" Hogan gave a little laugh. "Well, I wouldn't want to drag you down with me. Or should I say, drag you east with me."

"Are these prisoners really that important?" Hogan's last inference had caught Major Messner's attention and he sounded genuinely curious.

"Oh yes." Hogan assured him. "They're part of a very important Underground unit. Very tricky. Very talented at escapes." He moved a little closer to the desk, leaning forward confidentially "There is even a rumor that they have information on a plot to assassinate the Fuhrer."

"Is that so?" Messner looked again at Angel, who was still sitting frozen in her chair. "And this is one of your dangerous prisoners?"

"Don't let her fool you." Hogan also turned to study the girl. "She's the worst of them all. Always causing trouble. Appears and disappears in places she shouldn't be so quietly and quickly that some call her an angel."

If not for the blindfold, Angel would have rolled her eyes.

"If not for the fact that she can't see, no doubt she would have already figured out a way to cause us grief." Hogan finished, looking Major Messner in the eye. "You can see why I need to be certain of the security arrangements."

The speech seemed to have convinced the officer. "So then, let me tell you about how we do things here." Messner said, leaning back in his chair. Hogan had heard that tone enough in Klink to know there was a lecture coming and sighed. Both in relief and in resignation to the oncoming talk.

Meanwhile, Carter and LeBeau were down in the records room, getting ready to blow the door off of a huge vault, which contained locked files of valuable information.

"Can't you go any faster?" LeBeau glanced at the door behind him nervously. "We're supposed to set this thing off in exactly two minutes."

"No problem." Carter taped the explosive pack to the door. "We might even be done early."

"I might faint from the excitement." LeBeau said sarcastically.

"Really?" Carter paused his work. "I mean, this job isn't as exciting as some of our other ones. See, your average safe explosion just doesn't have the general destruction and flame output of, say, a bridge explosion. Now something like a munitions train or a fuel plant, those tend to…"

"Carter." LeBeau hissed. The look on his face was all the warning Carter needed.

"I know, just do the job." Carter mumbled. Someday, he would find someone who would listen to his expositions on demolition. He plugged the wires into their correct sockets. "Ok, done."

The two men scrambled behind a heavy desk, trailing wires behind them. LeBeau clamped his hands over his ears as Carter hooked up the detonator switch.

"Here is goes." Carter said, his eyes bright with excitement. He flicked the switch.

The whole building rocked with the explosion and the mayhem was instantaneous. Sirens began to blare and soldiers scrambled around the building in confusion. In the lobby, papers flew everywhere. In the office upstairs, Messner was cut short in his account of how often the guards were changed. He grabbed ahold of his desk to keep from falling over.

At the same time, Newkirk burst into the office. "The prisoner has escaped!" He shouted.

Hogan vaulted to his feet, glad to finally be in action. "Search the building!" The colonel yelled in return, striding towards the door. "Major? Your men will help us?" Hogan called over his shoulder, pausing by the doorway.

Major Messner snapped out of his daze as the sounds of his own staff shouting reached him. "I must investigate the explosion!" He shoved past Hogan and hurried downstairs, not giving a second thought to the blind girl siting in his office.

Hogan shrugged. "Ok Angel." He said just loud enough for her to hear and shut the door.

As soon as Angel heard the door slam, she tore off the blindfold, blinking to clear her eyes. Twenty minutes of being blind and she was inexpressibly glad to be able to see for a few minutes. Her eyes traveled around the room and came to rest on the map. A few quick steps brought her to the edge of the desk. Angel pulled the miniature camera from inside her shirt and clicked on the desk lamp, pointing it at the wall-map for better lighting. Then she began to snap pictures as fast as the camera allowed.

Downstairs in the file vault, LeBeau and Carter were rifling through drawers of paper, going as quickly as they dared without missing anything.

"Here it is." LeBeau announced, pulling out a thick file. He opened and scanned the contents, letting out a whistle as he did so.

"Let me see." Carter looked over his shoulder. "Wow. They know everything from code names to home addresses."

"We've got to get this to the Underground. And fast." LeBeau closed the folder. "Let's go."

"Wait a minute." Carter pulled a second explosive from his coat, lit the fuse, and tossed it in an open filing cabinet drawer. "Ok. Let's get out of here." He said, heading for the door.

LeBeau frowned in puzzlement. "What was that?" he asked, pointing towards the smoking drawer.

"Fire bomb." Carter answered gleefully. "That oughta keep the Krauts busy."

LeBeau shook his head. "Carter, sometimes you scare me." They split up; Carter heading toward the back of the building, and LeBeau going back upstairs to search the floor Kinch was most likely hiding in.

LeBeau ran up the stairs, wishing he was tall enough to safely take them two at a time. Newkirk would have directed the search downstairs, leaving Kinch safely somewhere on the hallway where the office was. The French corporal skidded to a stop in the empty passage, wondering where to search first. He decided to try all the doors that weren't locked.

The first door wouldn't budge, obviously locked. LeBeau turned the handle of the second door and it swung open. Inside, the room was dark. There were a couple desks lining the walls, implying an administrative office of some kind.

"Kinch?" LeBeau whispered loudly into the room. There was no answer. The corporal closed the door softly and moved on to the next room. This one contained only one desk and had a second, side door. LeBeau slipped inside. The streetlamp just outside the window gave him a margin of light and the office looked empty. LeBeau tip-toed across the floor to the other door and opened it. He stepped into the room beyond and looked around, barely noticing that the door swung mostly closed behind him. The side room looked to be some kind of library, with bookshelves along all three walls. There was no place to hide and no one in sight. LeBeau turned, opened the door, and ran into the figure standing on the other side.

Kinch started as his smaller friend came out of the library suddenly and collided with him. More accurately, since LeBeau barely came past the African-American airman's elbow, the Frenchman bounced off of him. Kinch grabbed LeBeau, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle a yell.

"Shhh." He whispered. "Louis, it's me!" LeBeau relaxed immediately and Kinch released him.

"I've got the papers." LeBeau handed them over and Kinch stuffed them inside his jacket. "There are stairs at the end of the hall that lead down to the back door. Carter will be waiting."

"Ok, thanks." Kinch replied. "And LeBeau, when you see Angel, tell her to be careful about letting anyone see her face. If any of these goons recognize her from before, we're all gonna be in hot water."

"I will tell her." LeBeau said seriously. "You better go."

"Right." Kinch moved to the door and cautiously looked out before slipping into the hallway.

As all this was taking place, Hogan and Newkirk were dealing with their part of the mission: trying to free the Underground agent. They hadn't counted on running into a very large, very determined looking guard at the door to the cell block.

"Halt." The Gestapo sergeant said as the two Heroes turned the corner and nearly rammed him.

"Ah, Sergeant." Hogan hid the look of surprised dismay and pretended to look the guard over. "You're just the man we're looking for."

Luckily for Hogan, this particular sergeant was eager to please. "What can I do for you, Major?"

"We're here to question a prisoner. A Frauleine…" Hogan stopped and frowned as if trying to recall something.

"Margareta Linden." Newkirk supplied helpfully, playing the part of officer's aide to perfection.

"Ja. That's the one. What cell is she in?" Hogan asked the guard.

"Oh you mean the Underground agent that we picked up last week." The sergeant answered.

"Yes. We believe she may have some connection to our prisoner." Colonel Hogan began hope that the excuse was enough to get them in. Maybe Newkirk wouldn't have to pick the lock after all.

"That woman is no longer here." The Gestapo goon informed him.

"What do you mean, no longer here?" Newkirk asked. He and the colonel were both afraid they already knew the answer.

"She wouldn't cooperate at all." The guard stated matter-of-factly. "And was shot while trying to escape last night."

"Oh. I see." Hogan said carefully, not allowing what he was really thinking to enter his expression. If they had been one night earlier, they might have stopped the execution. "In that case, we must be on our way."

"Heil Hitler!" The sergeant responded, throwing out his arm in a salute.

Both men waved their hands halfheartedly, all the while thinking poisonous thoughts about the man they were supposedly saluting. Then Colonel Hogan turned and led the way back down the corridor and around the corner. Newkirk mumbled something highly uncomplimentary under his breath as soon as they were out of earshot.

"I couldn't agree more." Hogan said in a low voice. It was then that he nearly ran into LeBeau.

"Kinch has the papers and is on his way back to the car." The short Frenchman reported. "Carter started a fire in the file room to keep everyone busy. Where is the agent?"

"The Gestapo gave her a traditional going away party." Hogan muttered.

"Shot as an escaping prisoner." Newkirk's anger was readily apparent.

"Dirty beasts." LeBeau spat.

"Yeah." Hogan forced his mind back to the mission at hand. "Listen, we're getting out of here. I'll go find Angel and tell her what's going on. You two go find Carter and get back to the car. Cause as much chaos as you can on the way out. We don't want anyone getting wise to what we're doing."

"Right sir." Newkirk answered for both of them. They hurried away, towards the sounds of shouting and men scrambling to put out a fire. Hogan found a set of stairs and ran up them, hoping to come out somewhere near the right office. As it turned out, he had to navigate through a few corridors before finding the right one. The American colonel located the right office and, checking to make sure no one was around, opened the door.

Angel was sitting tensely in the same chair he had left her in. She had replaced the blindfold and turned off the desk light. As Hogan entered, he saw her head turn towards the door and she took in a sharp breath. He couldn't blame her. Angel couldn't tell if it was one of her friends or a Gestapo agent come to murder her that just entered the room.

"Easy, it's just me." Hogan reassured her.

Angel visibly loosened up. "Colonel? Why are you here?"

"Change of plans. You're going out just like you came in." Hogan informed her, helping her up from the seat.

Angel knew better than to ask too many questions in the middle of a mission, but there was one thing she had to know. "Is everyone alright?" Her impulse, as a medic, was to make sure the entire team was physically sound.

"All our guys are." Hogan answered simply, hustling her out the door and letting her draw what conclusions she may from the statement.

They went back to the main staircase with Angel struggling to keep up. Colonel Hogan wasn't as considerate as Kinch had been. She almost tripped several times on the way down the steps, but she knew that Hogan was only hurrying because he was worried about everyone getting out. She couldn't see what was going on in the lobby, but there was a racket of noise.

What was really happening was that most of the soldiers from the search party and the men fighting the fire had congregated in the wide atrium just inside the front doors. The crowd was milling in confusion, with some people trying to figure out which way the escaped prisoner had gone and some trying to find the nearest water hose. Everyone was shouting orders, ignoring other orders, and generally making a mess. It didn't help that Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau were standing in the middle of it all, contradicting everything that was said, no matter what the command was.

It was into this turmoil that Hogan pulled Angel, slowly making his way toward the front door. Angel felt people brushing against her and heard the bellowing voices from all sides, but it was too scrambled to make anything out. The over-stimulation made her want to shrink down into herself, but she forced herself to keep walking. Then her worst fear happened.

Hogan was trying to keep an eye on all three of his men and let them know that they were leaving, so he wasn't paying much attention to leading Angel. They were being pressed against the outside wall by the crowd and Hogan saw an opportunity to make a break for the door. He sprang forward, forgetting for a split second that Angel couldn't see where she was going and inadvertently running her into a solid pillar.

All Angel knew was that she suddenly hit something hard and lost her grip on Colonel Hogan. The force of the impact was enough to send her to reeling back dizzily. She slumped against the wall and sank to the floor. There was a rush of footsteps in front of her. A squad of soldiers who had finally found a water hose cut between her and the colonel, but she couldn't know that. All she knew was that she had no idea where she was and she was surrounded by people. There were exactly four men in this building that she could trust and she had no way of telling who was friend and who was foe in the tumult around her.

The terrifying reality set in. Angel was surrounded by enemies and completely helpless. It was like one of her worst nightmares come true. She couldn't see. The sounds that echoed off the hard walls and floor seemed to press in on her, making her head spin. Angel fought the wave of panic that washed over her.

And then someone touched her. Angel flinched, barely suppressing the scream that was bottled up inside. Her muscles tightened and she jerked as a hand tightened on her arm. Like a trapped animal, she knew only one thought: Fight!

"Angel, it will be fine. Just trust me." A voice broke through the fear induced fog in Angel's mind. A soft, accented voice.

"LeBeau, let's get out of here." Angel couldn't keep the quiver out of her whisper. Someone pulled her to her feet and they again plowed through the masses. A hand grabbed her other arm and Angel shied violently away.

"Hold it. It's only me." An American voice came in her ear. Then another voice broke in.

"Major Hoganheinrich! Where are you going?" Major Messner had to shout to be heard.

"This place is obviously not secure." Hogan yelled back. "I'm taking my business elsewhere!" With that, they were swept away from the spluttering Gestapo major.

Angel felt a cold gust of air hit her face as they left the building. The noise faded behind as the door shut. A snowflake brushed her cheek. Hogan let go of her arm and rushed ahead to find the car. Angel moved down the stairs as quickly as she could and ended up almost falling on the slippery ground. Someone steadied her from behind before she could take both herself and LeBeau down.

"Easy there." Carter's voice was quieter and softer than Angel normally heard it.

"Carter, I take back my statement about not trusting you not to trip me over stuff." Angel told him.

"Aw, thanks." Now that sounded more like the right Carter.

A car engine sounded, coming closer quickly. A car door opened and Angel was directed inside. Two more bodies shuffled in behind her and the door slammed. As they started moving, Angel tore off the blindfold and sucked in a huge gasp of air.

Colonel Hogan looked back at her from the front. Angel took another deep breath and eased back against the seat. "Did everyone make it?" she asked, looking around. Newkirk was driving while LeBeau and Carter were sitting to her right. There was a sound from the back and Kinch appeared.

"I think so." The radioman answered.

"I'm glad it's over." Angel leaned her head back. "I never, ever want to go through that again."

"Look at the bright side." Hogan said cheerfully. "The Battle of Sitka's got nothing on us."

Angel stared at him. "Yeah, we even won this one."


	9. Aftermath (Or: You Did What To Klink?)

Back at camp, Eddie was getting worried. He was debating whether or not asking the commandant to give a speech classified as cruel and unusual punishment when the barracks door opened a crack and Newkirk's head poked out. Eddie breathed a sigh of intense relief and faced the crowd.

"And now for our final ceremonial dance." He called the signal out loudly. The nine men on center 'stage' immediately split into two groups. Five of the men stood in a semi-circle in front of the door to the hut, spreading their blankets out and creating an effective screen. As they were doing this, the four POWs who were covering for the spies went into the barracks and handed over their masks. Then Hogan, Newkirk, LeBeau and Cater rejoined the dancers outside. The other four men, Kinch and Angel went out through a window and joined the now exhausted, but still exuberant crowd as the final dance began.

The conclusion of the potlatch dancing was short. The drummers and performers were beat, so the whole act fell apart by the end of the first minute. Everyone pretended not to notice the men staggering back into a line as Eddie stepped forward.

"Now we will end this celebration with the unveiling of the new pole." He shouted. "Remove your masks." The men did so as he walked over and grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered the work of art.

"I give you… the story pole of Barracks Three in Stalag Thriteen!" Eddied pulled the sheet off with a flourish.

A respectable 'Ooohhh' went up from the gathering as the colorful and interestingly shaped tree trunk was revealed. Everyone leaned forward as if to study the artifact. As the intricately carved faces began to make sense to them, applause and cheers broke out. Angel, sandwiched in the very middle of the crowd, had to turn away from the sight. Her shoulders shook with laughter and she leaned against the nearest prisoner for support.

All Angel managed to get out was. "Oh Eddie."

Up front, Hogan was smiling broadly at the new totem pole. "This kid's got talent." He said to himself.

For there, bold in the firelight, stood some very familiar faces carved in very old Alaskan tradition. Colonel Klink's beak-like nose and monocle were easily recognizable, but the features were grossly exaggerated and painted bright red and green and blue. Another figure on the pole had a pronounced, bristly mustache and was colored yellow. And at the very top of the pole was a tiny figure that was hard to make out. But Hogan was certain it was wearing a distinctive brown cap and smiling a rascally grin down over the camp.

"Hogan I want to see you in my office. Diiissssmiiisssssed." Klink shouted at the end of morning roll call the next day. He turned and tottered awkwardly back to his office.

Hogan watched the German colonel walk stiffly across the yard, lurching and reeling in an amusing manner. The American officer briefly wondered what had happened, but he shrugged it off and headed for the office building.

"Good morning, Colonel Klink." He said brightly as he barged in the door.

Klink, who was in the process of lowering himself gingerly into a chair, was startled into letting himself go. He hit the chair with a thump and a yelp that should have come from a small dog whose tail is being stepped on. He eyed Hogan with keen resentment.

"Did you sit on your helmet again sir?" Hogan asked innocently.

"No I did not." Klink snapped. "I wish to discuss last night with you."

"Oh yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about that." Hogan answered right away.

"You have?" Klink was confused.

"Yes. See, Sergeant White ran out of time for the most important part of the ceremony." Hogan explained. "In his culture, the richest man in the village has to give all his possessions as gifts to everyone else during a celebration. Since you're obviously the wealthiest man in the camp, we thought you would fill the role. Now let's see…" Hogan rubbed his chin in thought. "I believe two extra slices of white bread for all the prisoners and one hour extra electric lights would be good for starters."

"Request denied." Klink slapped the top of the desk and winced as the movement jarred the rest of him. "I will not be taking part of any more of your insane ceremonies."

"They're not my insane…" Hogan started, but was cut off.

"Enough!" Klink yelled. "Now Hogan, what happened last night was unthinkable. Your men showed the greatest disrespect toward the Fuhrer. Not to mention me!"

"Just because they put you on a totem pole?"

"You saw just how they put us on a totem pole." Klink growled in a voice quavering with anger.

"Yeah, it was pretty funny." Hogan laughed. He switched off the humor and took on a brow beaten look when Klink glared at him.

"You must learn to control your men better." Klink admonished. "For this show of disrespect, the object in question will be destroyed."

"But Colonel…"

"And all rec hall privileges will be revoked for one week." Klink finished smugly.

"But they were only showing their artistic tendencies." Hogan protested.

"They can do that just as well by drawing pictures in the dirt in the compound." Klink ended the argument. "Dismissed Hogan."

Colonel Hogan sighed, gave a salute and turned towards the door. He was gratified to hear Klink saying, "Oh. Ouch." As he returned the salute a little too sharply and shook his spine. Hogan smiled as he stepped out of the office. Just to get one look at that totem pole had been well worth it. He grinned when he thought of the look on Klink's face when he had realized who the characters were. Not to mention the extra bonus of whatever had happened to make sitting down a little more difficult for the Kommandant.

Hogan was still smiling and wondering about this last oddity when he reentered the barracks. He looked at the men sprawled out around the table. Last night had taken a toll on everyone. Even Angel looked completely drained. Looking closer at the girl, Hogan saw something else.

"Angel, what happened to your head?"

Angel touched the swelling on her forehead tenderly and scowled. "Well, I'll tell you sir." She answered. "Last night, when I couldn't see a thing, the person who was supposed to be guiding me slammed me right smack dab into a big stone column. But at least he kept his promise about not running me off any cliffs."

"I wonder who that could have been." Hogan feigned wonder.

"Well, whoever it was, I have a message for him." Angel stared hard at the colonel. "Next time, he can be the blind guy and I get to be to Gestapo major."

"Now that would be a sight to see." LeBeau chuckled.

"Speaking of a sight to see, what's wrong with 'ole Klink this mornin'?" Newkirk asked no one in particular.

"Uh, yeah, about that…" Olsen spoke up.

"We let him try an old Eskimo game." Eddie interrupted. "A blanket toss."

"That sounds pretty harmless." Kinch observed.

"Yeah." Carter agreed. "How does that explain anything?"

Only Angel seemed to understand. She stared in astonishment at the two former masters of ceremony. "You blanket tossed Klink?" She asked slowly

"In short, yes." Olsen answered.

"And he landed…" Angel began to laugh again. She rested her head on the table and her whole body shuddered with suppressed laughter as the incident was explained to the rest of the crew.

"Boy, what I wouldn't give to have seen that." Colonel Hogan's eyes glittered with humor.

"'e must've looked like some kind of stoned seagull, droppin' out of the sky like that." Newkirk grinned maliciously.

Angel finally raised her head. "I'll bet it was almost as good as the look on his face when Eddie unveiled the totem pole."

"Oh yes, the totem pole…" Hogan frowned. "I'm not really sure how to break this to you, but they're not going to let us keep it."

"Too bad." Kinch shuffled a deck of cards. "It's great propaganda."

"Hey! Maybe we could send it back to England." Carter piped up. Everyone turned to stare at him.

"And just how are we going to explain that to Mama Bear?" Kinch asked pointedly.

"Oh." Carter ducked his head in embarrassment. "I guess I didn't think about that."

"I guess you didn't." LeBeau rolled his dark eyes.

"But it still might have a use." Colonel Hogan's mouth began to form a familiar smile. "We need to get those papers out to the Underground, right? So why not just send them out in the totem pole?"

"How?" Kinch looked up at his commanding officer and frowned.

"Klink wants to get rid of the pole. He'll dump it somewhere in the woods. The Underground has a man waiting to pick up the papers." Hogan explained.

"What if Klink decides to do something rash? Like burn the ruddy thing." Newkirk questioned, a concerned look on his face.

"Newkirk, I am positive he will dump it in the woods." Hogan answered.

"Why is that?" LeBeau asked.

"Because," Hogan walked around the table to stand between Eddie and Angel. "That pole is now full of Alaskan spirits." He placed a hand on each of the two Alaskans. "And we all know that things get pretty wild when Alaskan spirits decide to riot."

 _ **THE END**_


End file.
